Break The Spell
by Team Damon
Summary: Hermione has a secret, and one day an altercation between herself and a certain Slytherin forces her to come clean to her best friend. Set during HBP. Reviews would be amazing! Now Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**The day was crystal clear and warm, one of those days where staying inside to study was not an option for most students. This was true for Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, who had plunked down against the trunk of a large tree near the vast lake on the Hogwarts grounds with their heavy book bags and were so heavily engrossed in their homework for their NEWT classes that they stopped appreciating the fresh air soon as they cracked open their first book. **

**A distant familiar and repulsive giggle broke Hermione's nearly impenetrable focus and she glanced towards the castle to see Ron and Lavender traipsing along the grounds, sickening as ever. She really should be used to their disgusting displays of affection, and she tried hard to be, but no matter how indifferent she willed herself to be, her stomach still lurched every time her eyes and ears were assaulted with Lav-Lav and Won-Wons PDA. **

**Trying to shake off the puppy love induced wave of nausea, Hermione glanced at Harry, who was staring off across the lake at a couple who were snogging each other senseless and were initially unrecognizable to Hermione, as they were so entangled and such a mess of contorted limbs she couldn't be sure if it was an actual couple or the giant squid. But by the look in Harry's eye, she was quite sure that it was indeed two humans, one of which was undoubtedly Ginny Weasley. **

**Hermione scowled and returned to her book, not really seeing the page's words as she inwardly judged those of whom had no respect for the people around them and chose to carry on like animals in heat in full view of the entire school. Besides the general rudeness of such boldness, where was the romance? Where was the intimacy of a stolen moment, a private memory for only two lovers to share? **

**And then she really couldn't pay attention to her homework. She felt blush creeping up on her face and a few certain memories rising to the forefront of her mind, one of which was just from the night before. If she were being honest, this memory had been burning in her mind nonstop since it had formed, and for the first time in her life, she was quite afraid that she would never be able to focus on anything ever again. **

**She had just drawn a deep breath of what felt like suddenly too-hot air when she heard the voice and thought her daydreaming was unnaturally vivid before she realized it was real, and coming from behind the tree she was resting against.**

**"... won't leave me alone, it's like my second bloody shadow or a sick puppy," came the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. "It was fun at first just to have someone at my beck and call but now I'm about to start threatening her with the Cruciatus curse if she doesn't leave me alone."**

**"I'd like to have that problem," pouted Gregory Goyle. Hermione heard rustling and glanced at Harry, who hadn't seemed to have heard anything and was unaware his school archenemy was now sitting on the other side of their tree. **

**"Well, she does kind of have the face of a pug, can't deny that," said Blaise Zabini. "You know who doesn't?"**

**"Luna Lovegood?" volunteered Goyle.**

**"Luna Love- no, Goyle, why would suggest her?" Blaise answered, unexpectedly flustered sounding.**

**"Blaise, we all see you gawking at the Ravenclaw table every night and it's not hard to see who it is that's got you so enthralled," Draco muttered, his quill scratching against parchment. Hermione hid a grin, for she too had taken notice of Luna's admirer. **

**"Well..." Blaise stuttered weakly, "I - it's not - ok, but I was going to say the Granger girl." **

**By now Harry had snapped out of his jealous daze and was listening, but now Hermione was the oblivious one, having frozen upon hearing her name. **

**"Granger? Are you serious? The mudblood?" Goyle replied, sounding flabbergasted, as if his mate had just suggested they spend the evening feeding and tending to some Blast-ended Skrewts with Hagrid. **

**"Yes, the mudblood," said Blaise, "Her kind have no place in our world but I reckon she'd be a fun romp, she's got that bookworm thing going on. Those quiet types are the freaky ones."**

**Hermione rolled her eyes.**

**"It's that kind of thinking that will get more mudblood scum bred," Goyle scoffed. "My great uncle wasted his time on a piece of filth and knocked her up and got himself disowned out of the family years ago. Served him right. What should our kind have to do with any of them, even a passing glance?"**

**"What say you, Draco?" Blaise asked. "Parkinson or Granger, looks only?"**

**Hermione held her breath and felt her heart thump uncomfortably against her ribs. She had a bad feeling about this.**

**"Goyle's right," Draco answered without the slightest pause. "At least Pansy's not scum."**

**Hermione's heart fell. Really though, how could she expect anything else out of Malfoy's mouth? No matter what she knew he had to keep up his blood purist persona, even if she had firsthand knowledge that he was rather... conflicted these days.**

**Or was he?**

**"Have you seen her moping around now that the Weasel's got himself a floozy," Goyle said. "It's pathetic. Do you reckon now she'll set her sights on Potter?"**

**"Who cares what the mudblood does?" Draco retorted, sounding irritated. "She's less than the dirt under my shoe and I'd rather not waste my breath on her." **

**It was hard for Hermione to not take his words seriously. The sneer in his voice was convincing, and she was biting down on her lip now to keep her mask from slipping. She'd barely noticed Harry had taken her hand. **

**"Come on, Hermione, let's go," said Harry quietly, but she didn't move. **

**"Doesn't matter. Soon enough none of us will have to lay eyes on her or her filthy kind. The sooner they're all dead the better."**

**Goyle and Blaise sniggered in agreement at the same moment Hermione shot to her feet. She marched around the tree and faced the three Slytherins with a look so furious that all three got up to their feet as soon as they saw it. Harry followed close behind her and watched in slight bewilderment at what happened next. **

**Goyle and Blaise looked at the object of their verbal abuse with the usual contempt but Draco looked fearful, shocked even. He only had half a second to hold his expression, however, because Hermione had wasted no time closing the gap between herself and the blonde boy and slapping him hard across the face. **

**Harry couldn't believe it, but after Draco swayed on his feet and then steadied himself while holding his left cheek following the blow, he looked at Hermione with what looked a lot like sheer hurt and guilt on his face. These emotions looked strange on his pointed, normally sneering face, and Harry was only jolted out of staring when Goyle shot a curse at Hermione that sent her flying on her back with a yelp. **

**Enraged, Harry ripped his wand from his robes to retaliate but was stunned to watch Draco beat him to it, cursing Goyle himself and knocking him unconscious against the tree trunk behind them. Blaise looked as dumbfounded as Harry, but Draco ignored them and turned his eyes to the girl that was rising to her feet before him, anger still etched on her face but shock as well at what he had done to one of his most faithful cronies. **

**They all stood staring for a moment, except for Goyle, who was lying at an awkward angle against the wood and now drooling in his stupor. Finally Hermione spoke. "You have to choose, Draco. You've got to make up your mind." **

**These words made no sense to Harry, but at this Dracos expression turned defiant and yet somehow also terrified. Finally his face contorted on anger and he spat, "Stay away from me, mudblood," and ran away towards the castle. **

**Blaise threw Goyle over his shoulder with more than a little difficulty and headed in the same direction, shooting Hermione a final look of confusion as he went. Hermione's face sunk after he had gone and tears filled her brown eyes, leaving Harry wondering what in the world he was missing. **

**"Hermione," he said, "what-"**

**She flung herself at him, burying her head into Harry's shoulder, crying freely. He hugged his friend and glanced around, disappointed to see that Ron wasn't far from where the scene had unfolded but was too wrapped up in Lavender Brown, literally, to have noticed. **

**When she drew back she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and took one look at his bewildered face, and muttered, "I suppose I have a lot to tell you."**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for the alerts, favorites and reviews - way more than I expected! I'm trying to kind of weave this story in with canon and keep it as close to the real story as I can, so if anyone notices any discrepancies that should be fixed or any suggestions, please let me know. Oh and the story title will be explained later. Thanks for reading! :D**

**Harry and Hermione hurried back inside the castle and walked as quickly as they could towards the Gryffindor common room. Not a word was spoken during this time, save for a few defensive spells Harry shot at Peeves, who was following them most of the way and lobbing bits of rubbish at their faces. Harry glanced at his friend every few moments, who wasn't fighting tears anymore but looked angry and apprehensive, and the whole time Harry was at a complete loss as to what this all could be about. Draco being a prat was nothing new, but why did Hermione let his words get to her to the point where she got up and slapped him? After punching him in the third year, she had turned remarkably stoic in the face of Draco's bigoted verbal spewage and it seemed inexplicable for her to suddenly let it bother her again now. But even weirder than that was the fact that Draco cursed Goyle for shooting a curse of his own at Hermione after her assault on Draco's face. Harry would have expected Draco to laugh obnoxiously and then run off before anyone could have retaliated, but then again, Draco hadn't been himself all year. **

**Harry barely registered climbing through the portrait hole and was only jolted back to the present when Hermione cast a silencing charm around the deserted common room and sank into a fluffy armchair, eyes on the empty fireplace. Harry took the chair opposite hers and sat. **

**"Hermione, what's going on?"**

**Now he could see the tears stinging her brown eyes yet again. "Harry, I was too scared to tell anyone, I knew how you would react... you have to promise me that you will listen to the whole story and not get angry or do anything stupid once you know."**

**Harry's eyes narrowed and he was starting to get nervous. This couldn't be good. He had an idea of what could explain all of this, but it was beyond mad. "Hermione-"**

**"Promise me," she insisted.**

**"Fine, I promise, but-"**

**"Okay," she breathed, closing her eyes, apparently steeling herself in preparation for the story she was about to tell. "I've been using the Room of Requirement for homework."**

**Harry stared blankly at her. **

**"You know how I study and how I like to be a bit overprepared, and, well, I found out that I could turn the Room of Requirement into my dream library. Books that aren't in the library here, books even I have never heard of-"**

**"Okay, but what's that got to do with any of this?"**

**Hermione sighed impatiently and said, "Would you just listen! Anyway, I learned how to cast a Disillusionment charm so I could sneak there past curfew and study."**

**Harry almost stupidly said "But you're a prefect", but he quickly remembered it wouldn't have been her job to patrol the floor on which the Room of Requirement was found. "Alright."**

**"I was on my way there one night about two months ago and you can imagine my surprise when I get there and see Draco Malfoy standing outside the Room with his eyes closed about to go in."**

**And Hermione told the beginning of the story she thought she'd never tell another living soul.**

_**Two months earlier**_

**Curiosity got the better of her - after all, Harry had been going on all year with his suspicions of Malfoy being a Death Eater, Malfoy being behind every nefarious plot known to man, Malfoy disappearing off the Marauder's Map. This would at least explain Harry's third mysterious point, since it made sense for this Room not to show up on the map. But even Hermione had to admit, though she did believe Harry was being paranoid, Malfoy had been acting strangely all year and this seemed to confirm that he was up to something - but what? **

**So, Hermione stood directly behind Draco, breathing silently, and watched the door to the Room of Requirement appear. Draco stepped inside and she did as well, surprised that she was able to and realizing he must have forgotten to require his presence being the only one allowed while the room was his. **

**The Room was enormous and full of what looked like treasures and junk alike, and Hermione couldn't imagine why Draco would require this sort of room. She followed him silently as he passed through a few rows of junk and was careful to not accidentally hit anything and give herself away. They had just passed a table full of busts wearing dusty wigs and tarnished jewelry when Draco stopped short and she nearly crashed right into him. She looked up and watched him staring at a large, old-looking black cabinet, and she was watching him grasp a handle to open it when something from one of the large, unstable piles of unknown things loudly crashed behind them and she unthinkingly let out a painfully loud squeak, Draco's startled eyes falling right where she stood.**

**"Who's there?" he called, eyes glinting a bit madly, pointing his wand right at Hermione who quickly raised her own and Disarmed him as soon as she heard the beginning of an incantation coming from his mouth. **

**Draco looked stunned as his wand flew out of his hand and was caught by an invisible hand, and even though the squeak and the following cry of "Expelliarmus!" had been distinctly female, Draco thought of Harry's cloak and stupidly said, "Potter?"**

**Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her wand on herself, making herself visible. "There are other ways to avoid being seen besides an Invisibility Cloak, you know."**

**Draco's face turned angry. "Granger! How did you get in here? Give me my wand back, now!"**

**"I'll give it back when you tell me what's in the cabinet," Hermione retorted.**

**"But how did you get in here?"**

**"Never mind how I got in here!" Hermione half-yelled. "What's in the cabinet?"**

**"None of your business!" **

**"Then it's none of your business how I got in here, either!" **

**Draco's face grew angrier and he advanced towards Hermione, trying his best to be intimidating as he growled, "Give me back my wand, mudblood!"**

**Hermione took a few steps back. "Maybe if you asked me nicely and left out the name calling, or did your mummy never teach you manners?"**

**Draco's face was turning a brilliant shade of furious red as he continued to try to close in on her. "Give - it - back - now!"**

**He dived at her and she shot a non-verbal curse at him but it missed by centimeters, and they crashed into a pile of something that was very hard and very sharp, and they both let out yelps of pain. **

**Hermione felt Draco roll away and she looked behind them and saw that they had crashed into what appeared to be a pile of sharp hooks that looked like props for a pirate movie, but they were no fakes – she felt what she was sure were small puncture wounds all over her back. Then she looked down and saw Draco grasping his left arm, which was bleeding a bit but by the way he was acting, she would have assumed the whole of his arm had been sliced off. She shoved both wands in her back pocket and moved towards him. **

**"Oh get a grip, will you, you're fine," She grumbled, kneeling beside him and grasping his sleeve to tear it so she could have access to the wound to heal it when he suddenly grasped her hand and screamed at her, "Don't touch me!"**

**The desperate tone of his shriek had startled Hermione but so had his grip on her hand. When he had first touched her she felt what seemed like a small, strange volt of electricity but now all she felt was pain - it seemed he was trying to crush her hand. "Stop fighting me, I'm just going to heal the wound!"**

**He shrieked "No!" one more time just as she managed to tear the fabric of his sleeve, and several things happened at once. Hermione caught a glance of black ink on the pale skin of his forearm, taking the shape of a snake slithering out from a skull, and just as the shock and horror of what this meant began to dawn in her mind, she was flat on her back and Draco was wrestling with her, trying to retrieve his wand. **

**But even in the midst of her shock, Hermione was still far better skilled than he was and with a kick to the groin he fell away and she grabbed her wand and turned it on him, ropes snaking around his body and restraining him to the floor. **

**He was cursing, struggling, bleeding, and even seemed to be crying by now, and Hermione got to her feet and stood over him, wand still pointed at him but her face was soft. When she spoke, it came out a whisper. "You're one of **_**them**_**?"**

**"Yes, I'm bloody one of them," Draco spat, his voice a miserable groan. **

**Hermione just stared at him, her face frozen in shock, her blood running cold. Harry had been right all along. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the last two chapters uploading in bold print, I didn't even notice lol. Thanks for the reviews, alerts, & favorites - they make me happy :D**

Hermione stiffened in her chair, anxiously watching Harry for his reaction and growing more nervous with each second of silence. Harry was just staring at her, face emotionless, not saying a word, but clenching his fists at his sides, which were now as white as parchment. "Harry..." said Hermione tentatively.

Then he exploded. Harry tore from his seat and roared, "And you never thought that MAYBE you should tell me that I was right, that Draco bloody Malfoy is indeed a Death Eater? Do you have any idea what this means? Are you mad?"

"Harry, you promised you wouldn't act like this!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping to her feet and watching Harry pace to and from the fireplace like a madman. "You promised!"

"Yeah well, what did you expect? We've got to to go to Dumbledore, now, we've got to-"

"No!" Hermione shrieked, grabbing Harry by the arms. "No we can't do that! You have to listen to the rest of the story!"

"No I don't, I know everything I need to know already - Malfoy's a Death Eater and Dumbledore needs to know!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and steeled her voice to impress upon her best friend the seriousness of what she was saying. "After I'm done telling you the rest of the story then we can talk about going to Dumbledore, but I will use every curse I know to keep you in this room until then."

Though still boiling with fury, Harry knew he had no choice but to listen, however, he wasn't happy about it. He stomped to his chair and sat, staring daggers at Hermione. He gestured shortly with his hand and Hermione sat as well, and with a deep breath, continued the story.

_Once again, two months earlier_

Hermione felt many things - anger, disgust, fear, lingering shock - but to her surprise the dominant emotion was becoming pity. This was no Death Eater lying on the floor in front of her, tied in ropes she had conjured and crying as he bled - no, this clearly not somebody who believed wholeheartedly in what they were doing and who they were following.

"They're forcing you, aren't they?"

At these words Draco seemed to pull himself together, his grey eyes reigniting with anger as he glared at her. "Does Potter force you to help him fight his losing battle?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes but knelt beside Draco, pushing aside the ropes restraining his arms and tapping her wand to his injured arm. The bleeding stopped and the wound healed mostly but it wasn't perfect, as she didn't have much experience with healing charms.

"Why not just let me bleed to death? Stupid Gryffindors, this is why you'll never win - taking pity on your enemies instead of having the guts to finish them off."

Hermione kept her wand on him. "I don't believe you're my enemy, Malfoy."

"That's where you're wrong, Granger - I've always been your enemy, now it's just official."

"Do you want to know what I think?" Hermione mused, having formed her theory nearly the moment she'd seen the Dark Mark. "I think that your family must have fallen out of favor with Voldemort after what happened at the Ministry, and he wanted to punish your father for failing him and thought the best way was to force his only son to become a Death Eater. But why are you back at Hogwarts and not out doing his bidding?"

Draco said nothing.

"But Katie Bell's curse, that was you, wasn't it? Harry was right. Who was that necklace meant for? You know she's still in St Mungo's, right?"

Something changed in Draco's eyes and he said, "I didn't - that wasn't - I never meant for that to happen to her."

"But you meant it to happen to someone! What's happened to you? You've never attacked someone in this school before, not seriously anyway. And Slughorn's poisoned drink - that was you, too, wasn't it? Ron almost died!"

Draco spoke in a tone that suggested he was speaking to a little child. "What do you think the Dark Lord does to someone who fails an order he gives them? Do you think they live to tell about it? Do you think any of their family lives to mourn them?"

"But your father-"

"-Is in Azkaban," Draco finished for her, "the safest place in the world to be a Malfoy right now. Do you get it now, Granger?"

Her wand was lowering and her head was spinning. "But why did you let them do this to you, you could have come to our side! We could have helped you, and your mother!"

Draco threw his head back and have the ceiling an exasperated growl. "Don't you get it? This is what I was born to be! I'm my father's son, I always have been, I've never had a choice!"

"But you do!" Hermione insisted, bringing her face level with his. "There is always a choice, Malfoy - and it's never too late to make the right one."

His eyes turned sad for a split second, as if he longed to believe her words. "If I don't do what he wants, he'll kill my mother and make me watch. Then he'll kill me and make my father watch. Don't tell me I have a choice," he said as his voice broke. "My father made my choice for me before I was even born."

Hermione wouldn't have believed prior to this moment that she could ever feel sympathy for Draco Malfoy, but if there was anything she knew, it was that a son should never be punished for the sins of his father. "We can go to Dumbledore, we can ask him to help you, and..."

Draco spat out a humorless laugh. "Oh yeah, let's go ask for help from the man I'm supposed to-"

Draco stopped short and had a look of horror on his face that he knew he wasn't going to be able to explain away. One glance at Hermione's face told him he was right.

Her hands flew to her mouth. "Dumbledore! Yes, it makes sense! We knew the necklace wasn't meant for Harry, because he was right behind Katie almost the whole time she had it... and who else at Hogwarts does Voldemort want dead the most but Dumbledore!"

There was no point in denying it. Draco's only option at this point was to make sure he was quick enough to cast a memory charm on Hermione once he got his wand back. "Still feel sorry for me, Granger?"

But the sneer fell off his face as soon as he saw tears swimming in her eyes. How in the world could this girl be crying for him? He tried to attribute this to Gryffindor stupidity but for some reason, in that moment, he just couldn't bring himself to hate the girl as he normally did.

"Oh, Draco," Hermione moaned softly, and his insides did a weird jump at the sound of his first name on her lips. "He wants you to fail! He just wants to watch your family suffer! Even he can't defeat Dumbledore! Oh, Draco..."

And there it was again. What was this odd jumping sensation? He was so perplexed on what was going on in his gut that he barely noticed that the ropes binding him had disappeared.

"I'll take you to Dumbledore and he will know what to do, he will get your mother protected and figure out a plan..."

Draco got to his feet and watched Hermione pace as she muttered to herself, hatching some grand plan for Draco to shirk his responsibilities to the Dark Lord, when he noticed the back of her shirt was stained crimson and there seemed to still be blood flowing.

"Granger, your back..."

"...Of course, the Order will have to know..."

"Granger!"

She wheeled around and stared at him. "What?"

"Your back is bleeding."

Now that he mentioned it, her shirt did feel rather sticky in the back, and she remembered the stings of the pile of hooks she'd been thrown into.

"And I'm not going to Dumbledore or relying on your half-witted Order of the Phoenix for anything," Draco announced, noting that the look on her face seemed to convey that she hadn't considered him saying no to her plan as a possibility.

"But... but if you don't, I'll have to tell Dumbledore, and you'll be expelled, and Voldemort will -"

She looked horrified. Draco looked morbidly amused. "You see the dilemma this puts me in, having you know about this."

She grasped Draco's wand in her back pocket tightly with her free hand, as if it might fly back to its owner if she didn't. She pointed her own wand back at Draco. "The only way you can make it out of this alive is to come to our side."

"Oh don't worry about me, Granger, I plan on proving the Dark Lord wrong. I'm going to kill Dumbledore and when I do, we'll be in his favor again and we'll be on the winning side." But even as he said this, his bottom lip quivered and his voice strained.

"You are not a killer, Malfoy," Hermione insisted. "You can barely get the words out! Don't you know the Killing Curse only works when you truly want the person dead, when you truly mean it?"

Draco wasn't listening, however; he was screaming "_accio wand_!" inside his head, over and over, ever louder, hoping that just maybe he'd get lucky if he could just concentrate hard enough...

And then it happened - somehow it worked, and his wand flew from her back pocket and zoomed into his right hand. She looked shocked, but cast a shield charm before he even had a chance to cast a curse her way. Then she shot a body binding curse at him, which he jumped behind a large table to avoid, and rose every few seconds to shoot curses at her. He had cast his fourth round of curses when he heard the dull thud of a body crumpling to the floor, and he jumped up and ran to her.

It had been his stunning spell that hit her; she had fallen on her front, exposing her punctured back to the air. Wincing at this, Draco used the only healing spell he knew and did what he could for the wounds, then turned her onto her back.

It felt odd touching her, cradling her head as he had changed her position. He recalled the odd jumping of his insides when she had said his first name, and to his surprise, it happened again, just at the memory of it.

Then Draco realized he was being ridiculous, and tried to focus on the business at hand. He needed to modify her memory, but the problem was, he had never cast a memory charm before, nor studied it very well. But he couldn't leave her memory intact, nor could he just kill her, because Potter would find a way to accuse him, and he couldn't have himself removed from school.

Not to mention a feeling of sheer horror erupted through his very bones at the thought of taking her life, but he would never admit it, because he had no idea why it made him feel such a way.

So he pointed his wand at her forehead and muttered "_Obliviate_!", and a silvery thread emerged from the skin of her temple and fed itself into his wand, making him confident that the charm was working. After a moment he withdrew his wand, and looked down at the young woman lying before him.

She had grown and changed so much, he couldn't believe this was the same girl with the large teeth and overgrown weeds for hair that he had hated so. Something had made him feel that she had been sincere before about wanting to help him, that the idea of his situation truly distressed her, and he didn't know what to do with that. What had he ever given her other than a myriad of reasons to hate him and to not give a single hoot what the Dark Lord did or didn't do to him? When she had told him that he could still right the situation and choose his path for himself, he had almost believed her, and God, how he wanted to...

Acting on pure, insane, reckless impulse, Draco's hand reached out pushed away a strand of wild hair from her seemingly sleeping eyes, but then she stirred and his body returned to full consciousness with a startled jerk, and he ran away as fast as he could.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Okay, now things are starting to get interesting :) thanks for the reviews, favorites, & alerts, as always :)**

"So he erased your memory," Harry said through gritted teeth, "but I suppose you got it back?"

"Well that's just it," Hermione half-smiled, "He removed my memory _badly_. I remembered getting to the Room of Requirement and binding him, but not unbinding him. And I had spotty memory of us casting curses at each other. But then that night when I fell asleep, the memories he did manage to take came back to me in dreams. Although he did somehow manage to erase my memories of my previous Arithmancy class, and that was the only one I didn't get back."

"Okay, so explain to me why you didn't go straight to Dumbledore and tell him what had just happened," Harry replied, still blistering with anger.

"Well first I had a look at the cabinet that he had been going to open, but it just looked like an ordinary cabinet to me. I looked around a bit more but I wasn't finding anything, so I left and went to bed. I thought long and hard about this, Harry, but if I went to Dumbledore and told him what had happened, and Draco was expelled and Voldemort killed him for failing at his mission - how could I live with that?"

"But you can live with him prowling about the castle trying to assassinate Dumbledore at every turn?"

"Harry, there's no way he's going to be able to do it, and he knows that. Even if he could, he doesn't want to, he can hardly bear the thought! I believed - and still believe - he desperately wants to come to our side, but he's too scared of what would happen if Voldemort found out."

"Right, well," Harry muttered, failing to feel once ounce of sympathy for Malfoy, "there must be more to the story because this doesn't explain what happened today."

"Yes, there is," Hermione said, hyper aware of the fact that a blush was creeping up on her cheeks despite her best efforts to suppress it, and Harry's expression turned horrified. He clearly knew far too well how to interpret his best friend's blushes.

"Hermione - why - oh God - you're not...?"

"Just be quiet and listen."

_One and a half months ago_

Hermione had been noticing Draco's nervous looks he'd been shooting her in class and at meals, and she tried to keep her expressions neutral but she was getting the feeling that he was starting to figure out that his memory charm had been dismal at best. Anyone else would have been in fear of their own safety at this point, since if Draco knew her memory was indeed intact, that made her his current loosest end that needed tying up.

But yet she wasn't scared. She had seen the look in his eyes when she had said Katie Bell's name. He was horrified by his own actions and it was eating him alive, and anyone who was truly looking at him could tell. And if he had wanted to hurt her, he would have done so in the Room of Requirement, not simply tinker badly with her memory. But one of these days soon, she decided, she was going to talk to him again, and she would convince him to come to his senses and to come to her side. If it didn't happen within a short period of time, she reasoned, she would go to Dumbledore. She didn't want to, but if he refused to budge, then he really left her no choice.

Unfortunately, in the span of two weeks after the incident in the Room of Requirement, Hermione found no opportunities to talk to Draco. He had learned to use the Room properly, so she couldn't sneak in there while he was inside again. Besides class and meals, and he was only showing up to half of those anymore, he was never anywhere to be found.

She was pondering procuring some Polyjuice Potion and getting to Draco that way one night as she made her return to Gryffindor tower from the library, but her thoughts were interrupted when a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and she found herself being shoved into a dusty broom cupboard, one of the hands clamping over her mouth when she tried to scream.

The door slammed and her back was thrown to a wall, and there was not a single sliver of light to be found but Hermione knew instantly who she was with. Draco had her pinned with his body against the wall and his wand was poking her jaw, and she felt his breath ghosting across her lips. "Tell me what you remember, Granger!" he demanded.

"I - I don't know what you're talking about," she said feebly, knowing that she was terrible at playing dumb but her mind was curiously blank and non-functioning at the moment.

He used his free hand to dig into her right shoulder with his thin fingers, and his wand poked harder against her skin. "I'm not stupid, I see the way you look at me and I know I didn't do that spell right. Do you remember everything?"

Hermione's heart was thumping wildly, a little too wildly for her to understand, and it took a moment for her brain to catch up with his words. "Yes, I - I remember everything."

Draco released her with a shove, and he cursed as he turned away and with a swish of his wand lit the lamp in the room. She gulped in several deep breaths but her heart kept thumping, and her insides leapt a bit more when he turned back to her.

He looked as if he hadn't slept in days. His pale blonde hair was ruffled and hung slightly over his tired gray eyes, and she could see his hands trembling. "Draco -"

His eyes snapped up to look at her and she could almost see the strange reaction happening inside him to the sound of his name. He was no closer to understanding it now than he was two weeks ago. "I haven't told anyone. I don't want to. I've been wanting to talk to you, but..."

"I've already told you, I'm not joining your bloody Order or whatever it is you want me to do," Draco spat. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Then why did you shove me in a broom cupboard?"

The words had barely left her mouth when she realized with a jolt of horror that he was holding both their wands in his right hand. Where was her head at that she was just now noticing this?

"Well that's a bit obvious, isn't it? Come on, for being the 'brightest witch of our age', you're being a bit dim," He answered with a sneer. "I know how to do memory charms correctly now."

Hermione bit her lip and pushed herself closer to the wall as he advanced. She didn't see any way out of this, and he was getting closer - her heart sped up even further and she thought it might burst, and just as he closed the gap between them, a wild idea sprang up in her mind.

He raised his wand and opened his mouth to mutter the incantation, his face screwed up in concentration, and Hermione knew it was now or never.

She launched herself at Draco and kissed him.

She felt as if lightning had touched her as soon as her lips were pressed against his, and Draco must have felt it too - he shuddered against her before becoming completely frozen, his arms paralyzed at his sides.

Her body seemed to act of its own accord; her hands lifted and found his face, and her insides somersaulted when suddenly he ceased to be a stone and his lips moved against hers. It was tentative at first, and she opened her eyes just slightly to see his face. His eyes were shut so tightly he looked as if he were in pain, and she couldn't be sure, but she thought there might have been a tear sliding out from his eye but she never knew, because he overcame his apprehension and his hands found her waist, and there was a whole new wave of electricity as he roughly pushed her against the wall.

She had never felt anything like this before, and she could hardly believe it was real. It seemed this was a new experience for Draco as well, as he seemed almost clumsy, his hands moving wildly as their kiss grew more and more frantic. One hand tangled in her already unruly hair, the other moved over and side and to her lower back and back again. Hermione was gripping his slightly too-long hair, gasping for breath where she could find it, and wanting to be closer to him, even though she wasn't sure their bodies could be pressing any harder against one another...

It could have lasted hours, or days, she didn't know; but when he finally pried his lips away from hers she let out a frustrated whimper, and opened her eyes.

By now his hands were on either side of her face, holding it gently, and he looked into her big brown eyes and slowly came to realize what had just happened. Both of their chests were heaving with deep, ragged breaths, and once again, time seemed to stand still.

A part of Hermione screamed not to say anything, but she couldn't stop herself. "I'm sorry, I... I had to..."

"Yeah," Draco muttered stupidly, still staring at her as if it were the first time in his life he had ever seen her.

It was taking all of her self control not to jump on him again. "Draco..."

And then he was on her again, kissing her hard, taking her breath away, and making her dizzy with feelings and sensations she wasn't sure she would ever get used to. But as soon as she had allowed herself to get lost in him again, he was gone.

She opened her eyes, and saw him start to pace with his head in his hands. He looked a bit mad, and Hermione was afraid to say anything, so she wobbled forward on unsteady feet and grabbed their wands off of the floor when his back was to her. He then stopped pacing but was still gripping his head by his hair, and she thought she heard him mumbling to himself.

"Are you okay?" She asked feebly, and as soon as he heard her voice his head snapped up. He looked from her to the door and back again and rushed to the door, clumsily fiddling with the knob, when Hermione stepped to him.

"Don't go, Draco," she muttered, placing her hand over the one of his that was still fumbling with the doorknob. He flinched at her touch and half-slammed his head against the door. She withdrew her hand.

"I shouldn't have... shouldn't... just leave me alone," he stammered, twisting the knob successfully at last and storming out the cupboard.

Hermione stared for a moment at the door as it slammed shut, but then she looked down at her hand that was still clutching hers and Draco's wands. He may have told her to leave him alone, but she had the feeling it wouldn't take him long to retract that statement once he realized what he'd left behind.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: thanks as always for reviews, alerts, & favorites! I've decided how I'm going to end this story and am plotting the sequel. Oh, and as a sidenote, I've kind of tinkered with the timeline of HBP and extended Lavender & Ron's relationship, just to keep him out of the way for now, lol. Anyways, hope you guys enjoy. **

Hermione's face was a bright tomato red, and her ears felt so hot she was sure they were going to start smoking soon. This is something she never, ever, ever wanted to tell Harry about, and yet she just had, and she now felt so mortified that nothing would have made her happier than if the floor had opened up and swallowed her whole.

Eventually she forced herself to raise her eyes from her lap to her friend who was sitting just a few feet from her. Harry was silent, but a rather unpleasant shade of green. He was staring at Hermione with a look of sheer incredulity and what appeared to be a hint of nausea.

"... _Malfoy_?" Harry eventually said with a grimace.

Hermione nodded. "I know."

"But he was vile and horrible even before he was a Death Eater - I mean, think of all the names he's called you and how he's been trying to torture us for the last 6 years... Hermione, I'm trying but I'm really starting to wonder if you're under the Imperius Curse or something."

"I don't know what happened," Hermione admitted with a sigh. "And I don't know when I started to feel different."

"I mean... I always thought that you and Ron... you know... that you guys would get together."

Hermione's face hardened. "Yes, well, Ron's made his choice, has he not?"

"Yeah, I suppose, but... _Malfoy_?"

Hermione couldn't help but crack a smile. "I know, Harry, I know."

Harry leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead as if distressed, then asked, "Is that the whole story? Because if not, please leave out any details about...you know… _things_."

"Of course," Hermione answered with a sigh of relief. Harry's reaction hadn't been so bad. She had been anticipating much worse. "There is more, though."

_One month and one week ago_

Hermione had become an expert in dodging Draco. His wand was locked inside her trunk in her dorm, and he began making attempts at cornering her at least three times a day once it had been a week since the incident in the broom cupboard. He had forced Vincent Crabbe to give up his wand, but it wasn't performing well for him. In one Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Snape had the students practicing nonverbal shields again and Crabbe's wand backfired on Draco when he had shot a hex at partner Blaise Zabini, and he had been blown backwards into several student desks. Everyone laughed except for Hermione, and she was the only one who saw the murderous glare he shot her way when he had gotten to his feet.

But she wanted Draco to have a bit of time to think and hopefully come to his senses about going to Dumbledore before she gave him back his wand. She also wanted time to figure out for herself just what happened in that broom cupboard.

In the first few days following the incident, Draco had refused to look at Hermione and seemed to be quite alright with losing his wand if it meant never having to deal with her in return. But after about three days, she began to notice him casting her glances when they found themselves in the same room, though he always looked away before she could catch him. But she did catch the faint blush that would appear on his cheeks when he knew she was watching him.

After a few days of stolen glances, he had tried to corner her in the corridors a couple of times between classes, and after she successfully avoided him, he took to stalking her in the library, which didn't work either.

She knew she couldn't avoid him forever, and a part of her wanted desperately to be close to him again. She had never felt anything like when they had kissed, and the memory of it haunted her every waking (and usually even sleeping) moment. She wanted to know if he had felt it too, or if she was being delusional and had simply imagined almost the whole thing. Her mind went further into hyperdrive with each passing day that she spoke to nobody of this, over analyzing and over thinking until she thought she would go mad.

On the eighth night after the broom cupboard, Hermione was in the Gryffindor common room helping Ron and Harry study when an owl had crashed into one of the windows, giving them all a start. Hermione had been the one to let the owl in, and was surprised to find its letter addressed to herself. She quickly removed the parchment from its envelope.

_Granger,_

_Meet me tonight at the Room of Requirement at 9. Bring my wand._

_Malfoy_

Hermione's heart began racing and her gut was quickly aflutter. She glanced at her wristwatch and found she had all of 15 minutes until 9 arrived. She quickly ran to her dorm and grabbed Draco's wand from her trunk, then returned to the common room where she made her excuses - a jumbled mess of words involving "prefect" and "library" - and was off.

She cast her Disillusionment charm over herself on the way to the seventh floor, trying to keep calm but failing miserably. A thousand different scenarios played out in her head, each one getting worse and more horrific until she finally reached the entrance to the Room of Requirement.

She closed her eyes. _I need to meet Draco._

A large, ornate door appeared, and she hurried inside. Far from the enormous, massively cluttered room that she had visited last time, this time Draco's room was small and looked more like that blasted broom cupboard than anything else. It was dim and there were no chairs, just four walls and a single lit lamp hanging from the ceiling.

Draco stood in the center of the room and had turned to her as soon as he had heard the door. He wore his white school shirt and black trousers, and his blonde hair had been groomed and no longer hung over his eyes. But he looked just as tired as he had a week ago, if not more so.

"You brought my wand?" Draco asked, trying to avoid looking in her eyes.

"Yes," Hermione answered, feigning calm and staring directly into his averted eyes.

"I'll take it now, then."

"Only on a few conditions," Hermione said, and at this, Draco finally met her eyes.

"What are you talking about?" He spat.

"I'll give you back your wand but you have to promise me that you will stop trying to Obliviate me and that you will go to Dumbledore and tell him what Voldemort wants you to do. If you go to him yourself and explain, he'll help you and keep you safe, and -"

Draco cursed and punched the wall behind him. Hermione jumped in surprise. "Would you stop trying to help me!" He roared. "I don't need your bloody help! _You stupid mudblood,_ why won't you understand this?"

She hated herself for feeling hurt at these words, but she couldn't help it - for some reason, now she seemed to care what this man had to say about her. "It's you who doesn't understand, Draco."

"Will you stop calling me that?" he cried, almost sounding a bit hysterical.

"What, your name? Am I so repulsive that I'm not worthy to speak your name?" Hermione demanded, stepping closer to him.

He took several steps back. "You keep away from me, Granger."

"And what if I don't? You definitely weren't pushing me away when we were in that broom cupboard!" She retorted, gaining confidence with each step.

"Just give me my wand and go, I won't try to take your memories or do anything, okay, just go," Draco pleaded in a more quiet voice.

She thought about chucking his wand in his face and stomping off straight to Dumbledore, but as tempting as it was, she had to try to get some answers. "So that's it, then? You're just going to act like nothing ever happened?"

"What's it matter?" He countered. "You hate me and I hate you. That's never going to change. Not to mention we're on opposite sides of a war."

"Yes, and don't forget I'm a filthy mudblood who isn't worthy to attend the same school as you, let alone touch you, so you're quite right to want me as far away as possible," Hermione all but growled, eyes blazing and full of anger. "How dare I defile the great, vile, and evil Draco Malfoy!"

Draco's eyes were wide and he looked slightly terrified, but she didn't notice as she was tearing his wand from her pocket and gripping each end with one of her hands, bending it and trying to snap the piece of wood in half.

"No!" Draco screeched and flung himself forward, grabbing Hermione's hands and trying to wrench away his wand. Sparks seemed to fly where they're skin touched, and he looked up and saw that Hermione was now crying as they struggled. His heart sank, much to his annoyance, and perhaps it was that moment that he realized he was a bit beyond the point of denial by now.

He finally managed to tear away the wand when Hermione gave up with a wail and turned away, covering her face with her hands. "How could I have been so _stupid_! Oh, I can't believe I was _so stupid_!"

Draco stood holding his wand rather limply and watched her, something inside of him twitching. He could have pocketed his wand and bolted, but something kept him rooted firmly to the floor.

Hermione wheeled around, and her brown eyes were sparkling with tears as she yelled, "Well go then! You got what you wanted, now go!"

"I - Granger, I-"

"You truly are foul, you know that?"

"Granger..."

"I don't know how I was ever stupid enough to hope for different, you-"

"_Hermione_!"

She froze at the sound of her first name, having never heard him address her by anything other than "Granger" or "mudblood" before. She clenched her jaw and kept her eyes harsh.

"I don't know what you want from me," Draco muttered. "I know you despise me, and I know you only kissed me to stop me from taking your memory, so really, I've no idea what you want."

He sounded genuinely baffled. Hermione had to work hard to calm down and find the right words. "I don't think I hate you, Draco. I'm not really sure how I feel because whenever you touch me I feel like I'm on fire, and I never expected this and I'm so confused that I've barely slept all week."

And then she felt mortified. She had just admitted her feelings to Draco Malfoy, and now he was going to laugh gleefully and go and shout what she said from the tallest tower, effectively ending her life as she knew it. But then he said something that shocked her to the core.

"Oh, thank God it's not just me," Draco groaned, throwing his back against the wall and sinking to the floor.

She stared in shock as he sat there and rubbed his eyes with his wandless hand, sure that she must have misheard him. "What?"

"Sit down, Granger," he muttered, motioning for her to sit down next to him.

She slid next to him and felt awkward, and still shocked that Draco wasn't running down the halls and waking all the students to announce that she had professed undying love for him. He turned to her and asked, "You feel it, too?"

She flushed. "I feel... a lot."

Draco frowned and looked away. She then added quietly, "You're unhappy with this."

"Now isn't exactly the best time to start something with somebody who I've hated for six years and whom I've sworn to fight in a war," Draco said rather morosely.

"We don't have to be enemies," Hermione said quietly. Draco snorted in response. "That part is up to you. But I can't change my blood status to make myself more acceptable to you or anyone else, and even if I could I never would."

"I can honestly say that yours or anyone else's blood status is the absolute last thing in the world that I care about right now," Draco replied.

They were quiet for a moment and then Hermione spoke. "I haven't been able to think about anything else since the... since the kiss."

"I tend to have that effect," said Draco, though his voice strained with the attempt at humor. He stole a glance at Hermione and found a small smile on her lips.

"I think - I think we should make sure it wasn't a fluke or something," said Draco, and Hermione nearly laughed but stifled the urge when she saw he was serious. Her smile faltered. He clearly didn't want to like her, or have any feelings for her at all. He _wanted_ it to be a fluke.

But before she could express her dismay, his lips were on hers, and every nerve in her body seemed to erupt into flames, just as they had eight days ago. His fingers twisted in her hair, and hers reached for any part of him she could reach, and soon they were a tangled mess. What started as a test kiss became a frantic and desperate kiss that was so heated and nearly unbearable Hermione didn't know if she wanted more or if she would faint if she continued on. The world seemed to melt away at his touch, and she seemed to have the same effect on him. It was no fluke, but of course, she had already known that.

She broke away first, gasping for air and overheating, and when Draco opened his eyes, he fixed them on her, and her heart leapt at the hunger burning inside those silvery eyes.

"No fluke, then," Hermione panted. "Sorry to disappoint."

Draco hadn't realized he was half on top of Hermione until she had spoken and he returned fully to the present, and he was astounded at how quickly and easily he could lose himself in this girl. This must not be normal - or was it? He wouldn't have known, the closest thing he had ever had to a girlfriend before was Pansy Parkinson, and she was about as appealing as stale cat food.

"This is mad," Draco whispered, seeing his reflection in her brown eyes. For a moment, by seeing himself how she seemed to see him, he could nearly forget about the tattoo on his forearm and forget what he had become. She still believed in him. If she could, maybe he could too.

At his words. Hermione cracked a smile and giggled. Draco couldn't help but smile back, and her giggle grew into a full bodied laugh, and then he was laughing with her. He hadn't laughed once since being branded with the Mark over the summer, but now he couldn't stop, and it just may have been the best feeling in all the world .


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks as always for the reviews, favorites and alerts... I'm sick so more of them would help brighten my day... heehee :P**

Harry held up his hands. "Bloody hell, Hermione, I said no more details about - about _things_," he said, squirming.

"Sorry," Hermione smiled, "I'm trying to be very generic about those parts."

"Well... be more generic, or just leave them out altogether," he muttered. "It's bad enough that now whenever I see him all I'm going to be able to see is you snogging him..."

At this Hermione couldn't help but giggle. "It feels good to tell you, though. It's been eating me alive since it started."

"I should have noticed something was up with you, though," said Harry. "I've been so wrapped up in everything... I'm sorry, I feel like a lousy friend."

"Oh no, Harry, don't feel that way," Hermione said quickly. "I'm the lousy friend, keeping secrets."

Harry shrugged. "We all have our secrets, Hermione."

A brief silence fell, during which the two Gryffindors stared absently at the ashen fireplace. Finally Hermione sighed and said, "I suppose I should go on with the story."

_Once again, one month and one week ago_

Here they were, two enemies who had just become lovers, sitting on the floor of the Room of Requirement, both silent while trying to wrap their heads around exactly what was happening to them. Their shoulders were touching, and normally in the past, Draco would have jumped away at the contact, whining about having gotten "mudblood" all over his expensive clothing, while Hermione would have probably complained about getting ferret stench on her very reasonably priced clothing. But now, the two were at peace with one another, at least for the moment, but this likely meant the apocalypse was just around the corner and they most likely ought to find a bunker to take shelter in.

"Can I ask you a question?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence. Draco nodded. "Was I right to assume that you've been forced to become a Death Eater?"

He stiffened at these words, and his eyes hardened a bit. "It happened when my father was sent to Azkaban," he said quietly. "The Dark Lord summoned my mother and I the day after his conviction and told us he was going to 'honor' me with his Mark and a mission he was entrusting to me. My mother would have become hysterical if she didn't know that he would have probably killed her on the spot."

Draco's voice broke, and Hermione felt sick. "He said he would kill her then and there if I didn't obey him. So I took his Mark and afterwards he told me what he wanted me to do, and what would happen if I failed. It was obvious what he was doing. Just wanted to punish us. He knew he was setting me up to fail. That's the whole point."

Draco absently rubbed his left forearm. Hermione noticed this and felt her eyes well up with tears. "He's a monster."

"Of course nothing could have made my aunt happier," Draco said with a roll of his eyes. "But my mother... she can barely make it through the day."

"Does your father know?"

Draco scoffed. "Oh, he knows. He thinks it's a blessing, and that I can win back our family's honor by killing Dumbledore. He doesn't care about anything but himself and the damned family name. Always been that way."

Draco glanced at Hermione and saw her wipe away a tear. His brows furrowed. "What's the matter?"

"I'm so sorry, Draco," Hermione said sadly. "You don't deserve any of this. You shouldn't have to pay for your father's mistakes."

He shrugged. "Maybe I should. I'm no better than him."

"I wouldn't say that. But, you've always been a self-absorbed prat, that's for sure," said Hermione matter of factly, sniffing. "And a mean bully. Not to mention all the blood purist garbage you've spewed over the years. But I expect that that's exactly the type of person you were raised to be."

Draco didn't even argue with her choice words. "Shows what a ridiculous bleeding heart you are that you're here right now despite all of that."

"Shows what a hypocrite you are for being here yourself, and for kissing someone like me," Hermione countered.

Draco eyed her, and she couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. Then his eyes widened a bit and he said, "You're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?"

"About what? That you're trying to assassinate the headmaster or that you've snogged me twice now?"

"I was hoping both."

Hermione looked forward and frowned. "Yes, I suppose you have a reputation to maintain. We wouldn't want anyone to know you've stooped so low as to snog a mudblood."

Her voice was angry, and Draco quickly felt himself getting annoyed. "And tell me, Granger," he retorted, "what would dear little Potter or Weasley have to say about you snogging me? Were you going to shout it from the rooftops? Or were you going to keep it a secret, because deep down you know you're ashamed?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out for a moment. "I'm not ashamed! And anyway, that's different!" she finally stammered.

"Rubbish," Draco snarled.

"No, it is different! You decided six years ago that you hated me for no other reason than the fact that my parents are Muggles. I've only hated you because of how you've tortured me constantly ever since the minute I stepped foot in this place!"

"Yes, because it all comes back to me, does it? I suppose you've been Little Miss Perfect all these years, must have been somebody else who broke my bloody nose third year!"

"You deserved it! You nearly got an innocent animal executed all because of a tiny little scratch-"

"Tiny little scratch? Easy for you to say, I'd like to see you get attacked by a rabid hippogriff and still want it running around free!"

"Of course, because I've never been attacked by a fully grown troll or chased by a werewolf, or been petrified by a basilisk that your father made sure was released into the castle! No, after all that, I'm quite sure an encounter with a hippogriff would have been the one to do me in!"

"Just because you've had more than your fair share of good luck doesn't mean we can all count on the same, Granger."

"Good luck! Yes because naturally, someone like me couldn't possibly possess the intellect or quick thinking required in such situations, it's all just blind luck!"

Draco glared at her with narrowed eyes, and she continued on her tangent. "Yes, if only I were just a nice pure blooded little Slytherin, maybe you could acknowledge my skills and not be so horrified at whatever it is you feel for me instead of-"

And then there were suddenly lips crashing on her own, silencing her instantly, and she would have protested but the fireworks erupting throughout her body overruled her brain and she kissed him back. Just when she had given in, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes as he muttered, "Much better."

She raised a hand to slap his haughty face, not intending to hurt him but to annoy him, but his hand caught hers as if it had been a Snitch. Then, with a satisfied grin, he attacked her again.

She would have been happy to continue to let him do as he pleased to her, but the elephant in the room was inching ever closer, and she couldn't push it from her mind any longer. Finally she placed her hands on Draco's chest and gently pushed him away, and she said breathlessly, "You've got to go to Dumbledore."

Draco's face fell, and Hermione had the suspicion that their kisses had been the only moments since he received the Dark Mark that his mind had been able to go blissfully blank and free of terrible thoughts. "He will help you, Draco, I know it."

"I don't see how he can do anything to help me," Draco muttered, releasing Hermione and pressing his back to the wall once more. "What's the old man going to do, fake his death? Put me and my mother in hiding? We could have gone into hiding ourselves if that's what we wanted."

"I don't know, but he'll think of a plan," Hermione said. "He always does."

Draco's mind flickered to the large black cabinet inside the Room of Requirement. Hermione had no idea what she was talking about, and he suddenly wanted to get away from her as quickly as possible. Maybe that should have been his impulse from the beginning, before he'd snogged her senseless.

"Alright, I'll... I'll think about it."

Hermione's face brightened. "Good! Good."

He looked at the little witch and her eager expression, and he suddenly hated himself, for several reasons. One, because he had just lied to her. Second, because he was feeling things he had no interest in feeling for anybody. And third, because he never in a million years thought he would be sitting on the floor of a secret room in Hogwarts, spilling his guts out in between passionately kissing someone like her. A Gryffindor. A best friend of Potter's. A member of Dumbledore's Army. A mudblood.

What was he thinking?

"I think I should go," Draco said, getting to his feet. Hermione followed, and they stood awkwardly for a moment. How do two enemies who've just decided to spend the last hour kissing,discussing assassination plans, and reasons neither of them can stand the other say goodbye?

"Well... I'll see you," said Draco rather lamely.

Hermione nodded. "I'm here to talk if you... if you need anyone."

Draco returned her nod, his eyes to the floor as she spoke. Then he turned on his heel and half-sprinted to the door.

Hermione jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut even though she had been watching as it closed. She stared blankly at her surroundings for a moment before her face turned a violent red and a panic rose in her chest. What... in _bloody hell_... was she _doing_?

This could not possibly end well, she was sure of it. But, Draco said he would consider going to Dumbledore, and really, she hadn't expected even that, so maybe everything would turn out better than she feared. Or maybe they would turn out even worse.

She shivered involuntarily when she thought about those kisses they had shared. She had never felt such exhilaration and such, well, she wasn't exactly sure what, before, but yet it was coupled with a terrible sense of dread that had settled deep in the pit of her gut. Too much was possible, too much was unpredictable, and somehow she had managed to get in the middle of it all and, to make matters even worse, couldn't tell a single soul about any of it.

She took a deep breath and headed for the door. _You've really done it now, Hermione._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So it's a twofer today! Lyrics are from "Dirty Little Secret" by All American Rejects.**

_The way she feels inside_

_Those thoughts I can't deny_

_These sleeping thoughts won't lie_

_And all I've tried to hide_

_Is eating me apart_

"Well, he obviously never went to Dumbledore," said Harry, ruffling his hair with his hand.

Hermione shook her head. "No, not yet."

"Not _yet_? You can't seriously think he's going to change his mind," Harry said incredulously.

"He's very scared and confused right now, Harry, but he wants to find a way out desperately and I'm sure that he'll go to Dumbledore eventually."

"Eventually - Hermione, term is almost over," Harry said. "We don't have time to sit around and hope he'll do the right thing, especially when doing the right thing has never been any of his concern before. And what was he doing in the Room of Requirement in the first place? Have you found that out?"

Hermione shook her head and frowned, knowing Harry was right and that she had bought Draco as much time as she could. She thought back on the rest of her and Draco's story and suddenly felt like a fool.

_The last six weeks_

After the night inside of the Room of Requirement, Hermione became consumed by her secret romance with Draco. It was nearly all she could think about and she had to practice an astounding amount of self control to focus on school, but somehow she still managed to maintain the highest marks of all the sixth years. She and Draco shared looks in class and the Great Hall that nobody else noticed, though sometimes she did get the feeling that Ginny was beginning to pick up on the abnormally large amount of times her face became as red as a Muggle fire engine. But if Ginny did notice, she never said a word.

A week had passed when Hermione was in the library during a free period, poring over her Ancient Runes studies when a piece of folded, fluttering parchment hit her square in the face. She grabbed it and looked up, and her heart nearly leapt out of her throat when she saw Draco standing not very far away, pretending to read a book. His eyes were cast sideways on her, and she tried to steady her suddenly fleeting breath as she unfolded the piece of parchment.

_Room of Requirement, tonight, 8._

_D_

She looked up at Draco and then glanced around to make sure nobody in the library was paying them any attention, and gave a faint nod. He then turned and left.

Waiting for 8 o'clock had been torture, and when it had finally arrived, she felt as if she may burst. She was so distracted that she forgot to cast a Disillusionment charm and was nearly to the seventh floor already before she remembered to cast it.

The Room that Draco had created for her this time was vastly different - it was comfortable and warm, contained actual furniture, and even a large selection of books. When she first walked inside the Room, she thought he must not have been there yet and that she had created the room that she had been using to study in, but she found Draco standing near a fireplace that sat in front of one of the large bookcases.

She had intended to spend most of the night talking, but few words ended up being spoken. Draco seemed to be in pain if they weren't touching, and Hermione was usually beyond the point of coherent thought by that time to protest. He didn't try to push her very far, however, and she was both rather surprised and grateful for this. But the night ended much the same as the previous one had - he pried himself away from her, stared at her with an unreadable expression, and then awkwardly said goodbye.

This pattern repeated itself over the next six weeks, although once or twice Hermione had been the one to accost Draco and set up a meeting. Once they had even disappeared into another broom cupboard after a particularly torturous Potions class, where their cauldrons had somehow ended up placed next to each other and resulted in an hour and a half of nearly unbearable brushing of arms and a few times even hands. Their subsequent escape into the broom cupboard was the most reckless one to date, but their five minutes of bliss seemed worth it at the time.

Their last meeting took place the night before the incident on the lake that had forced Hermione to come clean to Harry. It was in the Room of Requirement at 8 o'clock as usual, but there was something different about this night that Hermione senses from the moment she stepped in the Room. Draco was desperate, moreso than usual, and was so distracted Hermione was getting worried.

They were on their usual sofa, and Hermione tore her lips from his and looked into his eyes, saying in nearly a whisper, "What's wrong?"

He was panting slightly and was more flushed than usual. "Nothing, I just..."

"Just what? Is it your... your mission? Have you thought more about going to Dumble-"

He silenced her with his lips and slowly pushed her down onto the cushions, and her thoughts vanished, replaced by dazed observations of how good it felt to be under his weight. His mouth moved to her neck, and Hermione's eyes were rolling in the back of her head when she heard him breathlessly say, "I just want more."

Those words snapped her about halfway back to reality. Her eyes opened and he moved so his face was hovering over hers. "You mean..."

Draco's fingers twisted in her hair and he pressed a kiss to her lips. He never answered, but Hermione knew what he meant. She suddenly felt panicked, and though Draco was now back to assaulting her neck, which normally emptied her mind as efficiently as the Imperius Curse, her whole body stiffened and she didn't know what to do.

This didn't go unnoticed, and Draco raised his head to look down at her. The look of panic and uncertainty on her face was unmistakable. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out for a moment. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... to... um," he finally stammered.

She shook her head quickly. "No, it's okay. I guess I should have seen that coming."

She moved to sit up, and Draco removed his weight from her. They sat for a moment in silence, until Draco finally said very quietly, "Sorry, it's just been getting a bit... frustrating."

In the back of her mind, Hermione couldn't help but note that Draco Malfoy had just apologized to her. Twice. But she forced herself to remain in the present. "Well, it's been getting like that for me, too, but what you have to understand is that for those of us for whom it would be our first time, doing it in secret and not bring able to breathe a word of it to anyone isn't the way I've imagined it. And I'm a girl, so these things are doubly important."

"And what do you think I am? Do you think I've been sampling all the girls in Slytherin every weekend or something?"

Hermione stared at him blankly. "You mean-"

"Yes, that's what I mean!" he snapped, sounding indignant. Hermione couldn't tell if he was angry because of her assumption, or because he had just admitted his lack of experience out loud.

"Oh," she finally said. "Well, then you should understand then."

"What do I care if I can't tell anyone about it?" said Draco. "I wasn't planning on telling anyone anyway."

Hermione was about to argue that that was the difference between boys and girls, but then realized what he'd just said. _Of course he wouldn't tell anyone,_ she thought angrily. _Why would he ever admit to sleeping with a mudblood_?

"You know, Draco," Hermione began with a cold voice, "when you say things like that it makes me wonder what in Merlin's name I'm doing here with you."

His eyes narrowed. "I didn't mean it like that, but if that's how you really feel, then-"

"Well, what do you expect?" said Hermione, getting to her feet. "I'm not going to be your dirty little secret forever. I don't know what's wrong with me that I've gone along with it as long as I have!"

Draco got to his feet as well. "We've been over this already, remember? You aren't about to go tell your bloody Gryffindor friends either!"

"You know what, you're right," said Hermione, crossing her arms. "I'll go tell everyone right now, and you can go and tell your Slytherin friends. And don't forget to owl mummy and daddy, I'm sure they would want to know as well. Better yet, I'll owl them for you!"

Draco looked furious. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

They glared at each other and were silent for a moment. Hermione felt her anger begin giving way to something else, and she spoke first. "I really do feel something for you, Draco, and I know you feel something too. But if you can't say it out loud, then what's the point of any of it? I deserve better than this. I deserve someone who isn't ashamed of me. And who has the courage to do the right thing and be on the right side of this war that's coming."

Hermione watched Draco's eyes cloud with familiar sadness, and he turned away. He walked to the empty fireplace and leaned his head against the mantel. She watched him for a moment, just wishing she could shake some sense into him. She imagined what their life could be like, fighting together with the Order, being able to be together not just in secret but in the daylight. Harry and Ron would come around, she knew it, and her parents would too. All he had to do was go and tell Dumbledore what Voldemort was forcing him to do. Everything would fall into place after that.

She approached him from behind and took his left hand in hers. "Draco," she said gently as she pushed his sleeve up past his elbow, revealing his Dark Mark, "this isn't who you are."

He grabbed his sleeve from her and shoved it back down. When he didn't say anything, she grasped his hands and turned him to her. "I believe in you. You might not believe in you, but I do, and I'll do everything I can to help you. So will Dumbledore. So will the Order."

She then pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He kissed her back languidly, their hands still clasped together between them. When he pulled away he looked into her eyes and asked, "Why are you like this? I'm a Death Eater and you're standing here telling me how much you believe in me."

There was no sneer in his voice - his tone was one of amazement. She shrugged. "Probably just part of being a Gryffindor. Either that or it's because I'm in love with you."

She never knew exactly what he thought of her confession, because his lips had crashed down hard on hers and didn't leave them for a very long time.

_Back in the present…_

Even though it was only the night before, it felt like it had been eons ago. Here in the sunlit Gryffindor common room with Harry at her side, her story with Draco seemed so different now. She felt foolish and somehow duped, seeing everything from Harry's perspective, but yet at the same time, clung to the hope that Draco would come around and that everything would turn out just fine. She did love him, she knew that much was true. But she had no idea the true nature of his feelings, and his were the ones that truly mattered, weren't they?

"Hermione," said Harry quite seriously, "we have to go to Dumbledore."

Hermione nodded. She wondered now if it was what she should have done to begin with.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This chapter is told from Draco's perspective. The lyrics are from "Break the Spell" by Daughtry, which inspired this story. Please review - only one review the last two chapters, whats that about LOL :p**

_Like a moth into a flame,_

_I'm hypnotized,_

_And like a stone,_

_I'm paralyzed cause I can't look away,_

_You found your way under my skin,_

_And I'm trying not to love you,_

_But I hate the way I keep on giving_

_Into you, like I always do,_

_No matter how I try,_

_Or maybe could it be,_

_That you're the part of me,_

_That's keeping me alive?_

_How am I supposed to break this spell you got me under,_

_I'm so addicted to the pain,_

_Got your poison running through my veins,_

_The way you pull me in,_

_The way you chew me up,_

_The way you spit me out,_

_I keep coming back, I can't get enough,_

_I can't go without you_

"_You have to choose, Draco. You've got to make up your mind." _

Hermione's words echoed through Draco's throbbing head like an annoying song that you couldn't shake as he tore through the castle, wanting nothing more than to break something and take out his anger on anyone, or anything. Oh, what he would give for someone to get in his way right now, for someone to give him a reason to unleash his anger on them...

He had been stupid to curse Goyle, beyond stupid. What was he thinking? All he had to do was stand there and say nothing, but no, instead he let his foolish emotions get the best of him, and now his friends were suspicious. He saw the look on Zabini's face. The only logical explanation for Draco cursing Goyle after Goyle cursed Granger was the truth of the situation, and Draco had never intended for anyone to find out the truth.

In all honesty, however, he had no idea what his plans to resolve the situation really were. Granger had been such a distraction from his problems, such a surprising source of some of the most curious things he had ever felt, and the last thing he wanted to do was end it, and yet he saw no other choice.

Granger didn't understand. He couldn't allow anyone to know, he simply couldn't. His friends knowing would be bad enough, but if his parents ever found out, his life would be over. His father, if he ever got out of Azkaban, would probably Crucio him into the next century for defiling the family name. Of course, there was another small snag, and that was the fact that he was now a Death Eater, and if his fellow Death Eaters found out that he had been cavorting with a mudblood, and not just any mudblood but a member of the "Golden Trio" at that, he would be served up to Voldemort on a silver platter and either be tortured into insanity before being killed or simply be killed straight away.

Granger couldn't appreciate this. She was part of a ridiculous bleeding heart section of wizarding society that believed that love could conquer all, or some sort of rubbish like that, but he knew better. Reality was reality regardless of whatever one felt, no matter how strong it was, and his reality was that he was the son of Lucius Malfoy, and that ensured him a miserable existence. His only choice today was to kill or be killed, thanks to the life that his father had condemned him to before he was even born.

He had reached the dungeons and all but shouted the password to enter, storming through the deserted Slytherin common room and entering his dorm that was equally, and thankfully, empty. He took out his anger on his possessions, kicking his trunk and anything else he could reach. He felt like an idiot tearing everything apart, but the release felt good at the same time. He usually had such strict control over his emotions, such discipline when it came to what he allowed himself to think and feel, but that seemed to have vanished overnight not too long ago. This year he had messed up everything he touched and he had never felt so angry in his life.

First, there were the botched assassination attempts. Those were bad enough, but then Granger had to fling herself upon him and kiss him to thwart his memory charm, and he had been stupid enough to get sucked into whatever it was they had together for the last month and a half. Was he _trying_ to screw everything up as badly as he possibly could?

Draco sank into his bed and buried his head in his hands. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get the girl out of his head. She made him feel things no girl had before, and he had begun to live his days in anticipation of their meetings in the Room of Requirement. It was pathetic, really, and it was all pointless, as he'd pointed out to her numerous times, but she always claimed otherwise, to his never ending frustration. Why couldn't she just accept things as they were, and either take it or leave it? _Oh that's right, she's a bloody Gryffindor._

He couldn't deny, however, that more than once he had almost believed her. He wanted to desperately. He wanted nothing more than a way out, a way to survive without becoming a killer himself. But he just couldn't see how there was a way out. Not even the great Albus Dumbledore could get him out of this one.

His thoughts drifted to the incident that had occurred still only minutes ago. He had felt unmistakable guilt when Granger had appeared, realizing she had heard what he said about her, and it wasn't a pleasant sensation. Even worse was seeing her fall to the ground after being hit by Goyle's hex, and he just hadn't been able to his control his anger. He cursed Goyle back out of instinct, pure, mad instinct of protecting the girl he... well, felt something for. But worst of all was the shame and self-loathing he felt the instant the word "mudblood" had left his lips.

What was wrong with him? This was Draco Malfoy, the rich, pampered, superior pureblood - what did he care if he hurt the little mudblood's feelings? Had he forgotten everything he had been raised to believe?

The truth was, once you had experienced the horror of a snake-faced psychopath holding a wand to your arm and branding you as his servant for life, and thus being expected to practice what you preached about blood superiority, it tended to make you realize just how little any of that actually mattered.

He remembered the initiation, recalled the blood ritual that had preceded the branding of the Mark on his flesh. His equally psychotic aunt Bellatrix had performed that part of the ceremony, which supposedly was to bond Draco to Voldemort as his servant. Her gaunt face had been sparkling with glee, so proud of her nephew for taking the same path as she had. Of course he'd had no choice, and the last thing he wanted was to end up anything like his aunt, or his father.

And yet, that was exactly what fate had in store for him, he just knew it.

The door suddenly burst open and Draco nearly screamed he startled so badly.

"Calm down mate, it's just me," said Blaise Zabini.

Draco took a breath and looked away. Blaise came and sat beside Draco, glancing at the stuff the blonde had thrown and tore up in his rampage moments earlier. "So, Granger, eh?"

Draco shot him a glare. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come off it, Malfoy," Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's kind of obvious, don't you think? And it explains a lot, actually."

Draco scowled. Blaise wasn't an idiot like Crabbe and Goyle, and never had been. He didn't follow Draco around like a lost first year, nor did he treat him like royalty as the others did. The two boys had always treated each other as equals, each being as arrogant as the other, and thus Blaise was arguably the best friend that Draco had. "Not really in the mood for this," Draco muttered.

"Well, I've gathered that, but Goyle's going to wake up any minute and I wanted to know what the story's going to be."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked.

"What are we going to tell him when he wakes up and asks what happened? Because I reckon you'd rather keep quiet who your girlfriend is."

"She's not my girlfriend," Draco immediately protested, but then he paused, eyeing the man suspiciously. "You want to help me keep it quiet?"

"Obviously," Blaise replied. "unless you wanted to go public with it. But to do that you'd have to have a death wish. Mind telling me how exactly how all of this started?"

Draco sighed. "She followed me into the Room of Requirement and almost saw me mending... something. I tried to Obliviate her but it didn't work. So I tried to again but she threw herself at me and kissed me to stop me." Blaise snickered at this. "And from there it all just sort of... happened."

"And you just 'happened' to change your opinion of blood status along the way, too?"

"Blood status hasn't been something I've paid much mind to for awhile, Blaise."

Blaise shrugged. "It's never been anything I pay much mind to. At least not since I was old enough to think for myself. 'Course, don't tell my mum that."

Draco was silent for a moment. "She knows about my mission."

"Blimey!" Blaise exclaimed. "You haven't even told me what it is!"

"I was under duress when I told her and I fully intended to take her memory," Draco snapped. "She was never supposed to remember any of it."

"But then a bit of snogging changed your mind?" Blaise guessed, earning a glare from the other man. "Sorry, mate, just trying to lighten the mood."

"Yes, well, thanks but that's not possible," Draco muttered, staring into nothingness. "She keeps trying to get me to go to their Order and to Dumbledore and to ask for help. Like they can do anything to protect me."

"Well," Blaise said after a pause, "all I know is that whatever's going on with you, it's taking a toll. You look ill, and you barely eat. Something's going to have to give."

There was no point in denying it. Draco sighed and pushed his hair back, muttering, "I can trust you to keep this to yourself, right?"

"'Course you can," Blaise replied. "I'm still kind of in shock over you and Granger, though."

Draco glanced at the grin on Blaise's face and his lips quirked involuntarily, nearly smirking himself. "I mean," Blaise added, "the two of you have hated each other since the day you met."

Draco shrugged. "I really couldn't tell you because I don't understand myself."

"Opposites attract, I suppose," Blaise mused. "Though I suspect things must be on the rocky side since you called her a mudblood out there today."

Draco's eyes darkened. He very much wanted to forget all about what he had said earlier, and the whole day in it's entirety. "Actually," he said, "she told me that she loved me last night." He then buried his face in his hands once more.

"Blimey," said Blaise. "Way to muck that up."

"Doesn't matter," Draco lamented, rubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers. "It was never going to last. She was good for a bit of fun but it's not as if it could have gone anywhere."

Even Blaise hadn't known the other boy all too well, he would have known that Draco hadn't meant a single word he'd just said. "You're a terrible liar, Malfoy. Always have been."

Draco glared at his friend. Blaise then said, "Look, I grew up with the whole blood purist mentality as well, and my mum has always drilled into me, 'find a good pureblooded Slytherin girl, Blaise, half-bloods won't do, either, Blaise." He used a grating high-pitched tone for his mother's words. "But say I was to fall for a half-blood, or even a muggle-born. What's she going to do? Disown me? Well, if that's all it took for her to disown her only son, then maybe it's best she did. Know what I'm getting at?"

"It's not that simple for me, Blaise. Never has been."

Blaise stared thoughtfully at Draco for a moment, then said, "You've got the Mark, don't you?"

He said it as he were asking Draco if the sky were blue. "How - _what_?"

"I take that a yes."

The two boys were staring at each other when the door opened and Gregory Goyle stumbled in, a hand clutching his head. "What happened to me? Why do I have a knot the size of an apple on my head?"

Blaise glanced a look at Draco, then muttered, "Tree branch. Some second year tried to hex his friend and it rebounded and hit a branch instead. Fell on your head and knocked you out."

Goyle grimaced, rubbing his head. "You serious? I feel like I got hexed into next Saturday!"

_Bloody deserve it too_, Draco muttered under his breath.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks as always for reviews, alerts, & favorites :D this chapter's a bit short, my apologies. **

The walk to the headmaster's office felt unusually long and somber as Hermione accompanied Harry through the corridors, every footstep bringing her closer to something she knew she had to do but still didn't want to. Neither she nor Harry said a word until they reached the gargoyles outside of Dumbledore's office.

"Acid pops," Harry muttered, and the gargoyles shifted. The two Gryffindors stepped inside the stone staircase and were lifted upwards.

When the stone stalled, they stepped off and Harry knocked on the door to Dumbledore's office. They heard the headmaster's familiar and comforting voice utter, "Come in."

They stepped inside the office, and found the headmaster sitting behind his desk, quickly moving some unseen items into one of the desk drawers. "Harry, Miss Granger - what a surprise," he said pleasantly.

Harry nodded. "Sorry to disturb you, sir, but we have some really important information and it couldn't wait."

"No apology necessary, dear boy," Dumbledore insisted, standing and motioning for them to sit in two chairs in front of his desk. They obliged, and Hermione's heart began to thud uncomfortably.

After the three of them were seated, Dumbledore's strikingly blue eyes turned to Hermione. She felt as she had whenever Mad-Eye Moody's magical eye had fallen on her, like she was being analyzed and read as if she were a book. She didn't particularly enjoy the feeling and was relieved when the headmaster's attention returned to Harry. "What is it that you need to tell me, Harry?"

Harry launched into his story, beginning with the suspicions he had been harboring all year regarding Draco, then recounting Hermione's story of when she first followed Draco into the Room of Requirement. He was talking very fast but Dumbledore seemed to be following just fine.

"... And she saw the Mark and everything. He's a Death Eater, and he's been trying to assassinate you all year," Harry said, finally stopping to take a breath.

Dumbledore nodded slightly, and cast a glance at Hermione, who was staring at her feet and looked sick, then said, "I see. Is there anything else?"

Harry paused. "Well - sir?"

Harry looked bewildered at Dumbledore's nonchalant response. When he saw this, Dumbledore quickly said, "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Harry, but I must admit that I was already aware of Mr. Malfoy's situation."

Harry was flabbergasted. Even Hermione had finally looked up, looking shocked. "You - you knew? Then why is he still here? Why is he still in the castle? Professor, he's tried to kill you twice now!" Harry half exclaimed.

"Yes, but I'm sure that we can agree that had he truly wanted to cause me harm, he would have done so already." Dumbledore lifted his withered and blackened right hand to push his half-moon spectacles a bit further up the bridge of his nose, and said, "Harry, I wonder if you could be so kind as to do me a favor and go find Professor Snape, and tell him I require his presence as soon as possible?"

Harry blinked. He stared at the headmaster with a look that said, _are you seriously going to sit there and remain calm while a Death Eater is prowling the halls waiting for his chance to kill you? Have you gone mad?_

"Harry, please, do as I say," Dumbledore said. Harry, still wearing a bewildered expression, got to his feet and turned to head for the door. Hermione stood to follow him, but Dumbledore interrupted her movements. "Could I have a word with you in private, Miss Granger?"

Hermione glanced at Harry, who was looking even more disgruntled now, and sank back into her chair as he exited the office. Dumbledore spoke as soon as the door had slammed closed.

"Forgive me if I ask too personal a question, but you don't quite seem to be yourself, Miss Granger. Is there more to this story than what Harry told me?"

Hermione shifted a bit uncomfortably and realized that this was her first entirely private conversation with Dumbledore in the six years she had been attending Hogwarts. "Yes, but he gave you the most important points and I'd really rather not..."

"Oh no, you misunderstand," Dumbledore said gently. "I am not asking you to divulge any private details."

Hermione paused. Private details?

"But I would like to tell you one thing, if you don't mind. I am a very old man and have seen many things in my life, and I have watched the rise and fall of many men," said Dumbledore. "I have seen many great things, and many terrible things. I have studied both the Light and the Dark side of magic, and seen what happens when they collide. But the most powerful force in all the world, the very most crucial weapon in our arsenal, and the single most life-changing power of all is, and shall always be, love."

Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat as her suspicion was confirmed that Dumbledore had indeed been reading her as if she were an open book. How did he do that? How did he always know?

"I believe in that, Headmaster. But I'm not quite sure it's applicable in my situation."

"And neither am I," said Dumbledore kindly. "But where there is love, there can be redemption, and forgiveness. Speaking of which..."

Hermione heard the door open. She turned and saw Harry entering with Professor Snape in tow. She turned back to the headmaster with an inquisitive look on her face.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he nodded to Hermione and said, "Good luck, Miss Granger."

She couldn't help but smile in response, though she did wonder what Snape could possibly have to do with love and it's powers of redemption and forgiveness. "Thank you, Headmaster."

She then rose and passed Snape on her way to join Harry, and they stood awkwardly a moment before Dumbledore confirmed their need to leave with a nod.

After they found themselves back in the corridors, Harry began ranting. "I don't understand how he expects us to just ignore the fact that Malfoy is a Death Eater. Especially after what he did to Katie and Ron! I mean, I know this is Dumbledore that we're talking about and he must have a plan, or something, but... are you listening?"

"Yes!" Hermione said quickly, and a little too loudly. "Yes, I'm listening. Harry, after you left he said the strangest things..."

"Like what?"

"Well, he told me about how he's seen so much in his life, about magic and good and evil, and that after all of it he believes that love is still the most powerful thing on earth."

Harry looked confused. "But... did you tell him more, after I left?"

"No, of course not," Hermione replied. "That would have been mortifying. No, he just seemed to know."

"Well, you know Dumbledore doesn't miss anything, and you did look like you were going to be sick every time I said Draco's name. Maybe he just put two and two together."

"Maybe," Hermione said, "but what's strange is he was going on about love and redemption and forgiveness, and said 'speaking of which' when you walked in with Snape."

Harry's brows furrowed. "He couldn't have been referring to me."

"I know, but what does Snape have to do with love or any of those things?"

Harry shook his head. "Dunno, but it sounds like he gave you and Malfoy his blessing," he said in a slightly bewildered voice.

Hermione drew in a deep breath. "Do you think it's possible? Do you think that if Draco did... love me... that it will be enough to change him, and for him to come to our side? Do you think that's what Dumbledore meant?"

Harry didn't answer, however, because at that moment Peeves the Poltergeist chucked a wastebin at his head, and didn't miss. Hermione shot several spells at the gleeful Peeves, who cackled happily as he floated away. "You alright, Harry?"

"Yeah, I've had worse," Harry muttered, rubbing the side of his head that had been whacked with the basket. "But I don't know, Hermione. If what you say is true, and Draco's heart isn't in what Voldemort has him doing, then sure, I suppose he can change. But we know Malfoy. He believes in everything the Death Eaters stand for. You heard what he called you earlier."

"He also cursed Goyle for hurting me," Hermione said quietly.

"I know," said Harry. "But if he really is that conflicted, the question is, which side of him is going to win out?"

Hermione was surprised to find themselves standing in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. Before he could say the password, Hermione stepped towards Harry and enveloped him in a tight hug. Harry was startled at first but wrapped his arms around his best friend, a faint smile appearing on his lips as she said into his ear, "Thank you for not reacting like an idiot earlier. You really are the best friend I could ever ask for."

When they separated Harry was still smiling, turning towards the portrait as he muttered, "You're welcome, but I'm still probably going to try to kill Malfoy next time I see him."

Neither Harry nor Hermione knew just how prophetic Harry's words would turn out to be.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: thanks as always for reviews, favorites, & alerts :D longest chapter yet today!**

Several days had passed, and Hermione hadn't seen a single sign of Draco anywhere in the castle. This may have been due to a lack of classes with the Slytherins during those days, but he also was nowhere to be found at meals either. Instead, Hermione noticed Blaise Zabini gathering an armful of food at each meal and disappearing, but not before shooting her some very odd looks. The boy had never even noticed Hermione existed before, even when they were sitting at the same table during Slug Club dinners- why was he now almost grinning all weirdly at her all the time?

Without Draco as a distraction, Hermione had begun to refocus on her schoolwork and was starting to fear that it was slipping into dangerously mediocre territory, so before dinner she had sought out her Arithmancy professor to express her concerns that her last essay had contained a large number of terrible mistakes and would be the end of her academic career. He had assured her that the essay was more than satisfactory, and encouraged her to go to the Great Hall and join her fellow students for dinner. She reluctantly agreed, and when she left his office she was greeted by the eerie sound of students and portraits babbling quietly, gathered together in groups, whispering with excited looks on their faces, the way it always was when something terrible had happened. She began to make her way through the students and heard small, horrifying portions of what they were saying.

"...Potter covered in blood..."

"... Moaning Myrtle screaming 'Murder in the bathroom', I heard it all the way from here..."

"... do you think Malfoy will make it? I wonder what happened to make Potter try to kill him..."

Her heart had already sank at the first comment about Harry being covered in blood, but now she was sure that it had stopped beating entirely. She had frozen in horror and was trying to listen to the rest of the murmurs when she was grabbed from behind.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed when Hermione jumped violently at her touch. "Hermione, come with me."

"What happened?" Hermione asked frantically, bring dragged by Ginny in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

"Not sure, but I have an idea. Can't tell you here," Ginny said.

Hermione feared the worst.

* * *

Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room, forcing herself to stay seated and not run to the hospital wing as fast as her legs could take her. Harry was there, and had just told his friends the entire story of how he had just nearly killed Draco, and the room had grown quiet. The truth was remarkably similar to what Ginny had guessed at after stringing together the rumors she had heard in the corridors. Harry had been spying on Draco, who was crying in one of the boys' bathrooms, and Draco caught him. They had exchanged curses, and Harry had used a spell he found scribbled in his Advanced Potions book by the "Half Blood Prince" marked "for enemies", and the spell had slashed open Malfoy's face and chest like a sword. Harry and Hermione hadn't told anybody but Dumbledore the truth about Malfoy and what he had become, as they had agreed to keep it to themselves, but Hermione knew Harry must be regretting that decision now. Perhaps his rash use on an unknown spell would be better understood if everyone realized Malfoy was a Death Eater. But if he disclosed that detail, he would also have to disclose how Hermione found out, and he was not willing to do that to his friend.

"I think he's going to be okay, though," Harry said after a few long, uncomfortable moments of silence. He gave Hermione a subtle look as he said this. "Snape was telling him that they might be able to avoid scarring... I reckon that means there wasn't any lasting damage. But if Snape hadn't gotten there when he did and healed him..."

Harry shuddered and Hermione bit down on her lip so hard to keep from letting out a pained wail that she drew blood. Her stomach was in sickening knots, her heart was aching, and her feet were desperate to take her to the hospital wing, to see for herself that Draco was okay. She looked to Harry and his eyes were boring into hers as if pleading, and Hermione knew this was his silent apology. Her eyes filled with tears that she couldn't shed, and she gave him the slightest of nods.

But despite this, Hermione still felt Harry needed to recognize that this never would have happened if he had turned that blasted book in when she had told him too. Yet her mind was so preoccupied that she had barely registered that any words at all had left her mouth until Ginny had snapped her head off.

Hermione felt more like she was watching herself argue with the youngest Weasley, like her body was on autopilot but her mind was already racing out of the tower and to the place she really wanted to be. By the time she and Ginny had ceased their bickering, the room had fallen quiet again, and Hermione glanced at Harry. He gave the smallest jerk of his head towards the door, a if giving her permission to go to Draco's side. She gave him a grateful look and got to her feet, placing a hand on his shoulder briefly before leaving the room.

"Where's she going?" Ginny asked, an annoyed tone to her voice.

"Probably the library," Ron guessed. "Way to chase her off, huh, Ginny."

Ginny glared at her brother and he quickly quieted down.

Madam Pomfrey had just left the hospital wing, to Hermione's relief, and she found all but two of the beds empty when she arrived. One was filled by a first year who had been half transfigured into a guinea pig, and the other was occupied by a sleeping blonde boy.

She crept towards Draco's bed, ignoring the groans coming from the half-guinea pig from down the room, and her hand flew to her mouth when she saw the full view of him.

His face was red and the gashes Harry caused were visible, ghastly so, and the rest of his visible skin was even paler than usual from the loss of blood. The tears that Hermione had been holding back finally overpowered her, and they erupted from her eyes with a strangled cry from the depths of her throat.

Draco jerked at the sound, and he shot up from the bed so quickly Hermione nearly screamed in shock. He was reaching for his wand but it was on the stand next to his bed, and there was panic in his dazed eyes.

"Draco it's me, it's just me," Hermione whispered, placing her hands on his shoulders and trying to move him back down to the bed. His eyes found her at last, and the panic in them dissolved as he remembered where he was. She removed her hands and he looked around for a bit, steadying his breath and running his fingers through his hair before appearing to have regained his full bearings.

"You can't be here long," said Draco finally, laying back down with a groan. "Pomfrey has to come and apply dittany every thirty minutes."

Hermione wiped her eyes, falling into a chair at his bedside. "Are you in pain?"

He grimaced. "Not really...I just feel a bit sore. And weak."

"I'm so sorry, Draco," Hermione said in a watery voice. "Harry had no idea what that spell did. He would have never done this to you on purpose."

"Is that why you came here? To apologize Potter?" said Draco angrily.

"No, I came here to make sure you were okay," said Hermione. "I've been thinking the worst this whole time!"

Draco looked away to his feet and muttered coldly, "Well, like I said, you can't stay long."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and fought the urge to cry some more. She had been on the verge of vomiting for the last hour and a half, counting the seconds until she could rush to Draco's side, and this was how he greeted her?

But Draco, she realized, hadn't made eye contact with her once since he had woken, and her mind flickered back to a few days prior. It seemed a lifetime ago that she had slapped him in front of his friends and that he had called her a mudblood - so much seemed so trivial now, seeing the boy she had come to love lying in the hospital wing, having been nearly killed by her best friend not even two hours ago.

"Draco, look at me," said Hermione, so quietly she wasn't sure that he would hear her at first. But his eyes fluttered briefly, and he reluctantly glanced at her.

Then they heard footsteps, and Hermione jumped up and vanished behind the curtain of an empty bed.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, did I not tell you to sleep? I was not joking when I said I would pour sleeping draught down your throat if you don't do as I say!" came the shrill voice of Madam Pomfrey. "Teenaged boys, always doing as they please, never listening... turn to me, boy, time for the dittany."

Malfoy grumbled as the healer spread the essence on his skin, not enjoying the burning sting that spread wherever it touched. It hurt especially on the larger gashes on his chest, but it was a mere beesting compared to the searing pain that he had experienced when he received the injuries.

Draco's mind involuntarily revisited the attack, recalling the shock and the excruciating pain of the curse he had taken, and of the hazy moments that followed. He had remembered Snape picking him up and telling him something about taking him to Madam Pomfrey, but then he had slipped into a terrible unconsciousness.

Whether it had been a dream or a hallucination, or even a vision, he had no idea, but after he had blacked out, he found himself inside of Malfoy Manor, in the vast drawing room. The room was darkened and cold, and he stood in the center of the room but was not alone. Lord Voldemort was there, and to his undying horror, a high pitched scream of pain and terror pierced his ears, and his eyes fell on a small, curled figure on the floor, belonging to Hermione.

She was shaking uncontrollably and crying in between Voldemort's shrieks of "_Crucio_!", but refusing to beg for mercy or death. She would surely go mad if pushed much further, or her heart would give out.

Then a cold, high voice spoke in his ear. "She is filth, Draco. She deserves this. You know she deserves this."

He could feel tears streaking down his face as he listened to the terrible voice, and his terror amplified when Hermione's glazed eyes found his. Then the voice spoke once more. "Finish her."

Draco stopped breathing, though the tears continued falling from his eyes as the world crashed down around him. His eyes were still locked with Hermione's when the voice spoke again.

"Finish her!"

He shook his head and dropped his wand, falling to his knees and waiting for death to come. He didn't want to live anymore, not after what he had just seen, and surely not after witnessing what he knew was coming next. His soul had shattered, he was sure of it, and death now seemed a pleasant escape, a welcome rescue from the clutches of this demon he had pledged so foolishly to serve...

And then there was a blinding flash of green light, and Draco had awoken to Madam Pomfrey fussing over him.

Similarly, her voice was what brought his mind back to the present this time and away from the sickening memory of his dream.

"... And if you're still not asleep the next time I come back, you will be taking that sleeping draught!"

Draco never wanted to sleep again. When the exhaustion had taken over before Hermione had shown up at his bedside, he had relived the nightmare twice. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her face, contorted in agony, limbs twisting and skin paling, eyes clouding as the light in them faded further with each inch she came closer to death.

This was what he was condemning her to. Somebody would find out about them, eventually - somebody always did. And when it happened, Voldemort would find her, take her, and kill her in the slowest way possible. He would make an example out of both of them, so that nobody in his command ever dared to touch such mudblood filth ever again. Draco had only one option.

When Pomfrey was gone and Hermione reemerged from the curtain she had been hiding behind, she quietly sat back down in the chair beside his bed. She looked at Draco tentatively and noticed the marks on his face had faded more with the freshly applied dittany.

Draco glanced at Hermione and felt his heart wrench as realization dawned on him. The thought of what he was about to do made him feel as if he were tearing himself in two, and that could only mean one thing - that he had truly fallen in love with this girl.

"I'm sorry about the other day," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "I shouldn't have slapped you."

Draco stared at her, dumbfounded. He had called her filth, less than the dirt under his shoe - and she was the one who was apologizing?

"I had to tell Harry, he knew something was up. He took it better than I thought he would," Hermione said. Draco's eyes flashed at the sound of Harry's name. "But I did tell him... everything."

"Explains why he tried to kill me earlier, then," said Draco coldly.

"No, I told you - he had no idea what that spell was going to do! He would never try to hurt you that badly, even if you are a -"

Hermione stopped herself, and Draco laughed humorlessly. "I hope you've finally learned your lesson from this, Granger."

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked, brows lowering.

"It means that we're done - and I mean it. I don't want you coming near me ever again."

"Why are you saying this?" Hermione whispered. "You can't possibly mean it -"

"Oh, I mean it," Draco replied. "And I don't care what you say."

Hermione felt like screaming in frustration. She'd gone from terror, to paralyzing worry, to relief, and now to this, all in less than two hours. "If this is because of what Harry did -"

Draco growled in annoyance and sat up fully in his bed. "Would you use your brain, Granger? Think!"

She said nothing, only stared at him.

"Potter knows, and so does Blaise Zabini. People are starting to find out."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "That's why you're saying this? Because two people know and you can't bear the thought of anyone knowing that you're with a mud-"

"No! Would you use your head for one minute!" Draco exclaimed, and the half-guinea pig down the way stirred and lifted his head. Draco grabbed his wand and stunned the child.

"Draco!" hissed Hermione reproachfully, but he ignored her.

"The point is, people are finding out. What do you think will happen when the Dark Lord finds out?"

"He won't," said Hermione quietly.

"It's only a matter of time," contended Draco. "And I'm not going to let it happen."

Draco's eyes became misty and he turned away from her, closing his eyes tightly against the dream that was inching to the forefront of his mind. He could see Hermione on the floor of his house, writhing in pain, silently longing for death...

"I'm willing to take the risk," said Hermione confidently.

"I'm not!" Draco roared. "You have no idea what you're talking about! Don't you know what he'll do to you?"

Hermione's heart ached at the broken, defeated look in Draco's eyes. She knew that he was right, but Voldemort already wanted her dead. What was so unthinkable about giving him one more reason to kill her, if he ever did find out?

"You would be a target," said Draco, seeing the images playing over and over again in his mind as he spoke. "He would make examples out of us. He's a Legilimens, and I know Occlumency but I don't know if I could keep it from him. If I let my guard down just once... I can't let that happen."

Draco looked tortured and desperate. He was also holding back tears, and all Hermione could think to say was, "What happened to make you think this?"

He pushed the hair out of his eyes with his left hand and and replied, "It doesn't matter."

Hermione sighed and then drew in a deep breath. "Honestly, Voldemort would kill me the first chance he gets no matter what. You must know that."

"It's different," replied Draco. "You're not a target like Potter, or Dumbledore. But this, this would make you one."

"But I told you, I'm willing to take that chance!"

"And I told you that I'm not! Bloody Gryffindors and your reckless bravery, never even stopping to actually think for one second..."

"Well forgive me, but being Harry Potter's best friend sort of brings with it enough danger and life-threatening situations to get you a bit used to these kinds of things, so I'm rather sure I could also handle being Draco Malfoy's girlfriend!"

"I'm a Death Eater! I'm not the bloody Boy Who Lived, I don't have a small army of people who would risk their lives to protect mine - I'm not arguing with you anymore, Granger. I'm not changing my mind."

Now anger was surging up in Hermione. So much for Dumbledore's words about love and change - this boy clearly did love her enough to do probably the only unselfish thing he had ever done in his life, which was to let her go for her own protection, but he had no intention of changing, or of seeking redemption. He was going to stay on the wrong side of the war, despite how deeply he wanted to be on the right one.

"You're a coward," Hermione said, standing. "And a fool. You're ruining your life. You've hurt innocent people. You're hurting me. And you're only going to hurt yourself if you don't swallow your pride for once in your life and admit that everything you were raised to believe is wrong, that your father is wrong, and that you were wrong to not take your mother and come to us the second Voldemort made you take that Mark. If you survive this war, you will look back one day and see how stupid you're being. But it will be too late by then. And you will have lost everything."

Draco stared at her, his mouth open just a bit, wanting to argue, but finding himself utterly speechless. Hermione then bent down, and pressed her lips to his, one last time.

Her lips seemed to burn like the dittany, as if they were too pure, or too good to touch his. Draco couldn't bear the thought of this being the last time he ever kissed this girl, but he knew this was it. This had to be it.

When Hermione pulled away, she left a trail of moisture on his cheek where a tear had fallen from her eye and on to his skin. She blinked several times and took a steadying breath as she said, "Goodbye, Draco."

Then, with her head held high and shoulders squared, Hermione walked away, leaving the boy she loved alone in his bed. She kept her posture perfect and her emotions in check until she was in the corridor and out of Draco's sight, which is when she slumped, began to cry nearly hysterically, and broke into a run.

Meanwhile, Draco lay flat on his back, his mouth set in a hard, thin line, and stared at the ceiling until, for the second time that day, he cried.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thanks as always for reviews/alerts/favorites. Only two more chapters left after this! I've already finished writing this story and am on chapter two of the sequel, so at this rate I might have the whole sequel done before I even start posting it :P Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this chapter more than I enjoyed writing it. I'm getting sick of torturing poor Draco. Lol**

Hermione ran through the castle without bothering to Disillusion herself, hurting too badly to think straight for the moment. She was disappointed in herself, angry at herself, and most of all, angry at the blonde boy who was the cause of her heartache. But she should have known better than to ever get involved with the Slytherin. She was smarter than this, she told herself, and stronger than this. Why shed a single tear over a boy who had tormented her for six years, then gotten himself enslaved to a murderous psychopath, only to then start snogging her senseless every week for nearly two months? Sure, he had opened up to her and showed her a side that she previously thought he couldn't possibly possess, and he had made her feel as if she were an unquenchable ball of flames every time he touched her, but so what? What had any of it changed? Nothing. She had shown him the way out, offered him the help of the Order, but none of it made any difference. He was still a Death Eater, and too much of a coward to do the right thing.

Malfoy was just Malfoy. How could she expect anything different?

And yet, a small voice in her head reminded Hermione of the fact that if he truly was the git he had always been, and hadn't changed one bit, then he would have kept stringing her along with no regard as to what would happen to her if Voldemort found out about them, and how it would make her the psycho's top Muggle-born target.

So _fine_, he had learned to actually think about somebody other than himself, she thought. But why couldn't he see that there was a way out his situation, and that there was redemption if he would only reach out and take it? Why did he see doing Voldemort's bidding as an inescapable life sentence when there was the Order, who would so gladly take him and his mother in?

She blubbered out the Gryffindor password to the Fat Lady and threw herself inside the portrait hole, not caring who saw her sobbing. As it was, Harry was the only one who was in the common room, and he stopped her when she tried to run straight to the girls' dormitories.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry asked as he ran after her and grabbed her arm to keep her from running away, panic in his voice. For a wild moment, he thought Draco may have succumbed to his injuries, judging by the way Hermione was acting.

"Oh Harry," wailed Hermione, throwing herself into Harry's arms, "I've been so _stupid_! I don't know why I thought he would ever change."

"But he's okay, though?"

Hermione pulled back a bit and blinked. "Wha- yes, he's fine."

Harry's face relaxed some. "I thought... never mind." Then his face hardened. "What did he do to you?"

Hermione took one step back and wiped her eyes with one hand while waving her wand with the other, casting a silencing charm around them. She then launched into the story of what happened in the hospital wing between Draco and herself. By the time she had finished her story and was breathing normally again, they had sank next to one another on a sofa, and Hermione had mostly regained control of her emotions. "So that's it," she said. "It's all been a waste of time."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. He took his best friend's hand and said quietly, "I know it hurts... but he's probably right. Things don't ever stay secret for long, and if Voldemort found out..."

"And why is he saying this now, and not two months ago? I suppose he got what he wanted out of me and now wants to be noble and pretend like none of it ever happened."

"I didn't say he wasn't a slimy git," Harry said. "Don't mind me asking, but... are you really in love with him?"

Fresh tears formed in Hermione's brown eyes, and she let out a great breath she had been holding. "You must think I'm mad."

"A little," Harry admitted.

Hermione laughed without a trace of humor. "There's no other explanation why I'd let myself fall for Draco Malfoy. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"I don't either," Harry said, giving his friend a sympathetic look with a tiny smile.

Hermione gasped out a hollow laugh and rested her head on Harry's shoulder, grateful to have a loyal, non-judgmental shoulder to cry on.

Both were silent for a moment, until Harry spoke quietly. "Ron broke up with Lavender tonight."

Hermione felt nothing at this news. Her misery was beginning to dull into numbness, and though this was a relief in some ways, she wasn't used to this type of feeling and it was unnerving. "Well, I guess the night wasn't a total loss then."

Harry grinned just slightly. "Guess not."

* * *

Draco had long since forced his childish, embarrassing crying to cease. He had also pretended to be in a deep sleep when Madam Pomfrey had reappeared next, keeping his eyes closed tightly and hiding his discomfort when she applied more dittany to his wounds. It stung less each time it was applied, but he wouldn't have cared either way. His pain was coming from somewhere much deeper than exterior wounds, and it only got worse as the night went on.

_Coward_. His whole body tensed at the memory of Hermione's words. How could Gryffindor's annoying little princess call him such a thing? She had no idea what it was like to be him. She had no idea what it was like to grow up in Lucius' shadow, and to have your fate pre-determined. Just because he didn't choose to go and have himself and his whole family killed on a whim of reckless bravery to "do the right thing" didn't mean he was a coward. It just meant he had a sense of self-preservation, unlike the blasted Golden Trio, and was realistic enough to anticipate that a scar-headed teenaged prat wasn't going to be able to defeat the most powerful Dark wizard of all time.

But he couldn't deny the allure of safe haven. For the first time, he allowed himself to fully consider Hermione's unending suggestions to join the Order of the Phoenix - not seriously, he assured himself, but just as a change from his usual thoughts. He imagined being holed up somewhere remote with his mother, away from the coming war, away from everything, and safe. He wouldn't have to see that terrible, excruciating look in his mother's eyes anymore when she looked at him. His soul would be intact, and maybe - just maybe - he could have some control over his life and his future after all.

It was in the midst of these thoughts that Draco drifted off to sleep. It was late in the night and he had fought so hard to stay awake, but he could no longer hold off the inviting cloud of unconsciousness that was enveloping him.

It felt as if he had been sleeping for no more than a moment before the dreams began. This time, he was in a darkened, strange house, sitting in a drawing room with his mother, who looked happier than she had in years. The pain was gone from her eyes, and she seemed to breathe easier. There were voices coming from other parts of the house, and he recognized them. He heard his old professors Moody (the real one) and Lupin, several unmistakable Weasley voices, Potter's obnoxious warbling, and the feminine sounds of Hermione's voice. He was with the Order of the Phoenix but not really a part of it either, which wasn't surprising, since if he were the Order, he wouldn't fully trust himself or his mother either.

But then there was a loud crash, followed by cackles and unhumanly savage growls and grunts, and he and Narcissa jumped to their feet. The whole house became lit with green and red light, screams and thuds, and Draco began to run to the scene. Narcissa was grabbing at him, telling him to just run out of the house and Apparate away with her, asking what he was doing, but he paid her no attention. He heard a scream that he knew belonged to Hermione, and ran faster, wand out but nearly tumbling out of his suddenly shaking hand.

Draco reached a large kitchen that was attached to another drawing room and saw black hooded figures everywhere, though three of the attackers were unmasked and most visible - Lord Voldemort himself, who was holding Potter by his throat against a wall; Draco's aunt Bellatrix, who was the source of the gleeful cackles he had heard, and who was smiling proudly as she stomped on the body of her latest kill, her own niece Nymphadora Tonks; and Fenrir Greyback, who was tearing out the throat of one of the Order, a girl, but Draco couldn't see who...

Then Greyback tossed the body aside like a ragdoll, and Draco saw a flash of bushy brown hair hit the floor.

And then all he saw was his own white-hot rage. He burst into the kitchen and sent Killing Curses everywhere, all sense of self-preservation lost, all rational thought lost. Nobody had seen him coming and his curse hit Greyback, to his pleasure, and he had also hit a hooded figure who had been standing beside the werewolf. He felt strange, like he was losing control of his own magic and that he might explode from the inside out, but then he heard the mad voice of his aunt and both he and his mother were petrified.

Unable to move, Draco watched as the Dark Lord finally defeated his nemesis, and the Boy Who Lived was no more. Potter's limp figure was levitated triumphantly in the air by a coldly laughing Voldemort, who was desecrating the boy's body so badly that Draco thought he was going to vomit, but as he was petrified, he couldn't avert his eyes.

Once the victorious snake had his fill, his eyes turned to the two Malfoys who were lying as if stones on the floor. His high voice pierced the air.

"Ah... I see we are joined by our two filthy traitors."

The body bind was lifted and Draco and Narcissa were free to move but stayed where they were, knowing there was no way out of this. Voldemort's red slitted eyes were alight with victory but also full of hatred for the two blondes in front of him. "Bellatrix," said the Dark Lord, "take care of your disgraceful sister."

Narcissa kept herself silent for as long as she could while her own sister tortured her, but eventually the pain became too much to bear, and her screams filled the air. What was left of Draco's heart was shattering as he watched his mother twist and writhe in excruciating torment, and it seemed to go on forever. The times Draco attempted to look away his eyes were magically forced back open and on his dying mother by Voldemort himself, who said, "This is what happens to traitors, young Draco. This is what will happen to you next."

When Bellatrix finally ceased the torture of Narcissa, it became evident that the time hadn't merely seemed to be ticking by slowly. The torture really had gone on forever, and Narcissa stared at the ceiling with blank, deadened eyes, while her lips uttered nonsense.

"She's been Longbottom-ed," Antonin Dolohov announced happily, and Bellatrix let out her most gleeful cackle yet.

Then Voldemort's wand flashed green, and Draco's mother was dead.

"Such a pity," Voldemort said. "I shall take care of you myself, dear Draco."

A wave of the most sickening, debilitating, destructive pain seemingly possible struck Draco and spread evenly from his head to his fingertips, and to the tips of his toes. His eyes were fixed open and bulging in a silent scream, his voice dead, everything about him dead, nothing left in the world but the faces of his dead mother and first love, and the quickly approaching insanity that this pain would surely bring. He just wanted to die, just wanted it all to be over and done, he never wanted to feel anything ever again...

And then Draco was awake and Madam Pomfrey was shaking him, even slapping him as she tried anything she could to wake him. His eyes slowly focused on her frantic face, and the pain in the dream dissipated. Now he felt a different pain, like the wounds on his chest were about to reopen and flood the bed with his blood.

"Mr. Malfoy! Are you alright? I heard your screams all the way from my quarters, and I've been trying to wake you for the last ten minutes!"

Draco's chest was heaving with great, shuddering breaths, and his entire body was drenched in a cold sweat. The terror was horribly fresh in his mind - his mother's torture and death, Hermione's limp, bloodied, and half-eaten body, and his own unimaginable pain - and he dissolved into tears. His crying was interrupted only when he threw his head over the edge of the bed and vomited all over the floor.

Pomfrey momentarily had no idea what to do with the boy. There was nobody in the school to summon for the boy, because he hated all of his teachers and she wasn't aware of any close friends of his. So she did all she knew to do, and hurried to her stores to pluck out a calming draught, then poured it down the boy's throat upon her return.

Slowly Draco's terror ebbed and he felt an involuntary warmth trickling through his veins. The warmth numbed his pounding head, unraveled his tangled and lurching stomach, and he could feel himself regaining his ability to think.

"Is there anyone I can get for you, dear boy?" the healer asked quietly.

He shook his head. Besides the fact that he couldn't think of a single person in the castle who could help him, he didn't want anybody to see him like this. Madam Pomfrey sighed, walked away, and then returned with a handful of small vials containing clear liquids.

"This is more calming potion, and sleeping potion," she explained, pressing the vials into Draco's still trembling hands. "But I suggest you speak to someone about whatever is causing this. If you don't feel comfortable with anyone else, I shall be available."

Draco said nothing, but gave a nod. Pomfrey cleaned the mess he'd left on the floor with a flick of her wand, and she said, "I will be in my office if you need anything further."

This meant the healer had clearly given up on the idea of sleeping tonight. Draco couldn't feel any guilt at that, however, because he had already begun employing certain aspects of Occlumency once the calming draught had taken effect. He was emptying his mind and dissociating as he would if his mind were attempting to be invaded by Legilimency. Absently, he realized this must be why Severus Snape was the way he was. Nobody, possibly with the exception of the insane Bellatrix, could live this life and allow themselves to feel anything. That was the key, he realized. He had to stop feeling. He had to stop thinking of anything that could cause him to feel. Essentially, he had to be dead inside.

When his mind was as empty as he could manage, he drank one of the vials of sleeping potion, and ignored the ache in his heart that no amount of control could ever erase.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed/alerted/favorited, as always. Only one more chapter after this! Lyrics are from "World So Cold" by Three Days Grace. :)Oh, and I've changed up the Battle of the Astronomy Tower from the book here so that Hermione takes Neville's place in the main battle, and from there I added a bit as well :) Enjoy!**

_I'm too young_

_To lose my soul_

_I'm too young_

_To feel this old_

_So long_

_I'm left behind_

_I feel like I'm losing my mind_

Hermione's dreams had been no picnic either, but for her, reality still managed to sting worse than the dreams that plagued her mind at night. She spent her days in a haze of schoolwork and efforts to appear normal and unaffected on the outside, but covertly keeping an eye on Draco all the while.

She had decided after the first night that she would not mope or wallow about. Doing so would solve nothing, she reasoned. She wouldn't be in denial of her feelings but she also wouldn't become a slave to them. She would hold her head up, keep in good spirits, and not allow a few months secretly in the arms of a Death Eater to change who she was.

Draco, however, did not seem to be taking the same path. Every time she saw him, his eyes were dead, and he looked thinner with each passing day. She had also become invisible to him. She could have jumped on him in the middle of class and danced a jig on top of his head and he would have continued to stare blankly at nothing, completely unaware of her existence.

This worried Hermione even more, however. If the dead look in the boy's eyes was due to him effectively shutting himself down, then he would surely become more dangerous. The only reason he hadn't caused anyone's death at Hogwarts yet was because he was so conflicted, and because his heart was nowhere close to being in his efforts. But if he turned off his humanity, and was now operating with no emotion, Hermione feared what would result.

The only improvement in daily life was having Ron back from Lavender's strangling grip. Hermione had missed him dearly, and to her surprise, he noticed that there was something wrong with her. She shrugged it off as stress with school and the general state of things, and he accepted this, which relieved Hermione. There was no way she planned on ever telling him about her Malfoy problem. She had the feeling he wouldn't be quite as understanding as Harry had been.

Harry, of course, had managed to snatch Ginny up in recent days, after her breakup with Dean, and Hermione was happy for them, but she couldn't help the twinge of, well, _something_ she felt being around the happy couple.

Term was nearing its end, and it was with a great shock of fear one afternoon that Hermione accepted the bottle of Harry's Felix Felicis one afternoon when he had come rushing to the Gryffindor common room and, in a mad ramble of words, told her and Ron that he was leaving the castle with Dumbledore tonight and that they needed to help patrol the school with the Order members Dumbledore was leaving in his absence, and make sure Malfoy didn't have a chance to do anything nefarious.

Her heart pounded with fear for the rest of the night for Harry. She had a sickeningly bad feeling about it all, but she kept it to herself as she kept watch that night on the Room of Requirement with Ron and Ginny. Something bad always happened at the end of their school years, and everything seemed to be brewing just right for another spectacular disaster.

They were standing outside the Room for an hour before Draco finally emerged, and when he did, his eyes grew wide as he looked at the three Gryffindors that were apparently awaiting him. Then his eyes locked with Hermione's for a split second, and she felt her thudding heart perform a familiar flip flop just before Draco threw a handful of black powder in the air, and everything went dark.

The sound of feet pounding past them and swishing of robes set the three into a panic, and after the impenetrable darkness had finally lifted, they rushed to find the Order members.

It all happened so very fast - one moment they were telling Remus Lupin what had happened, and the next, an all-out battle had commenced near the Astronomy Tower. This fight was much different from the Battle of the Ministry last year, however, because Hermione and her fellow DA members had shared Harry's liquid luck potion among themselves, and they were dueling Death Eaters as equals, or perhaps even superiors, based on the apparent terrible aim of more than a few of the dark robed attackers.

Hermione was trying desperately to figure out what was going on and where Malfoy was, and how in the world he had gotten Death Eaters into the castle through the Room of Requirement. Her heart was heavy as she dodged curses and shot some of her own, feeling woefully uninformed and scared as Death Eaters created a barrier to the Tower and a few escaped into it. She heard Ginny shriek and wheeled around to see what had happened, and saw Fenrir Greyback mauling Bill Weasley's face. Both girls cast curses at the werewolf and blew him into the wall, but he bounced back up as if not hurt one bit, grinned and scampered up the tower.

Ginny tried to run to Bill but another Death Eater set his sights on her and she was forced to continue fighting, though all of his curses flew past her as if she were inside a full body shield that was deflecting them all. The same was happening to all the DA, and Hermione only wished that the Order members and professors fighting with them had been able to take the lucky elixir as well.

She never knew how long the battle went on, only that it ended soon after Snape had bounded up the tower. That had given her hope; he had gotten past the barrier and was up there helping the Light side, whatever was going on. But her hope fell as soon as the professor reappeared, dragging Draco by the arm, followed by Greyback and several other Death Eaters she didn't know. She stood frozen in battle, curses still magically missing her, as once more that evening, her eyes locked with Draco's.

He looked sick, shaken and horrified, but it was all hidden behind his eyes, and Hermione doubted if anyone else could have noticed. His expression became almost ashamed for a moment as he looked at her, before he seemed to get hold of himself and emptied his face of any discernible emotion.

_Did he do it_? Hermione thought wildly. _Did he kill Dumbledore_?

She had made the mistake of getting distracted and not noticing that Greyback had re-entered the battle, apparently intent on a quick snack before fleeing the castle. He went for the easiest target, which at this moment was Hermione, who was still standing completely still and watching Draco as he began to pass.

She saw Draco's eyes turn from her to something a few feet in front of her and the silver orbs went wide with panic. She finally looked away from him and with horror realized that Greyback was lunging at her, teeth bared and eyes ablaze with savage hunger.

She raised her wand but her mind was blank with terror and the werewolf was so large and so close that even if she had moved, she wouldn't have been able to get away from him. But then there was flash of red light, and the werewolf was blasted away just as his long, yellowed, and claw-like nails grazed her shirt and ripped it.

Hermione gasped and turned around. Snape had marched Draco just past her now, and Draco's wand was out and his eyes were on her once more. She immediately realized that he was the one who had protected her and hexed the werewolf.

Then he was gone, and Harry was tumbling down the tower, tears streaming down his cheeks, a blazing expression on his face that Hermione had never seen before. She hoped against hope that she was wrong, but she knew that a look like that could only mean something unspeakable had happened, and it was then that she knew that Dumbledore was dead.

* * *

Apparently, his fellow Death Eaters had safely misinterpreted the scene as Draco trying to hex the mudblood and accidentally hitting Greyback. This was a very good thing, because if they had realized he was protecting the mudblood after failing to kill Dumbledore, he was fairly sure he never would have made it out of Hogwarts alive.

Draco Apparated to Malfoy Manor before Snape, appearing instantly in its most vast drawing room, where his mother, aunt, and Voldemort himself were waiting. Anyone else Apparating to the Manor would have appeared outside the gates where they would have to be let in, but the wards were set up to where only Malfoys (and these days, much to Narcissa's disdain, Voldemort) could Apparate anywhere inside the vast estate.

Narcissa rushed to her son, who looked even sicker now that he had to answer for his inaction.

"Ah, Draco," came the high, cold voice that was so present in Draco's nightmares these days, "Tell me; is it done?"

Draco nodded, gulping a little too loudly. "It's done, my Lord."

Draco's eyes flickered to Bellatrix, whose lips stretched out into a wide smile as she cackled her joy at the news. "And you were the one who carried out the order?" asked Voldemort.

His blood ran cold. Now he would have to deal with the consequences of what he couldn't do. "I - no -I'm sorry- S-Snape did it, my Lord."

Voldemort fingered his wand, turning his head to the side thoughtfully, not noticing the look of relief mixed with new worry on Narcissa's face. "I see," he said, gliding closer to Draco. "So much like your father you are, Draco. So enthusiastic and able when it comes to mere talk, but when the time comes for action, you are curiously... unable to complete the task. Tell me - why do you think that is?"

He was now horribly close to Draco, whose mother was still holding on to him from the side. Bellatrix's smile was gone as she watched the scene unfold.

"He's just a boy," Came Narcissa's small voice, much to the shock of everyone in the room.

_Crack_. Voldemort backhanded the woman, and she fell to the floor with a thud. Draco gasped and anger surged inside of him, though he knew he could not afford for it to show. "My Lord, I mended the cabinet. If not for me, nobody would have been able to enter Hogwarts tonight, and Dumbledore would be alive."

"Very true," Voldemort said calmly. "And that is the only reason why you are not dead." He then flicked his wand, and Draco fell to the floor next to his mother.

There was nothing in the world but pain; his eyes were open but he couldn't see, couldn't hear, and couldn't breathe. It was like living one of his nightmares, only the pain was so much worse than he ever imagined.

An eternity later, as quickly as the pain had come, it was gone, and he could breathe again. His vision returned as well, and he saw Snape standing close by, eyes as impassive as ever but somehow different as he looked down at him.

"Severus," said the high voice. "My faithful servant."

Snape gave a slight bow. "Come," said Voldemort, "let us celebrate."

Snape and Bellatrix followed Voldemort out of the room, and Draco immediately grabbed his mother. "You okay, mum? Are you okay?"

"Of course I am," she replied, enveloping him in a hug. "Are you alright?"

He nodded into her shoulder. "I couldn't do it. I tried, but I couldn't. I just couldn't."

She pulled away and cupped his face in her hands, as she had done since he was a baby. "You're alive, Draco, and your soul is intact. That is all that matters."

He nodded, but he didn't feel like his soul was intact. He may have avoided tearing it in two by committing murder, but he had been the one to effectively arrange the murder by creating a way for the Death Eaters to get inside Hogwarts, and no matter what anyone said, he would see Dumbledore's blood on his hands forever.

"He offered to protect us, when I was there. I Disarmed him and I was about to kill him, and he was telling me he would send help for you tonight, for both of us, to get us into hiding," Draco whispered in a shaky voice, making sure nobody but his mother could hear him. "He said he knew along that I was behind everything."

Draco then had to grit his teeth to keep from crying. Narcissa recognized this habit as one of her own, and pulled him back to her. "It's okay, Draco. It's over now."

"It's not," Draco said. "It's never going to be."

Narcissa lost her tenuous control over her emotions at this moment, and allowed herself to cry into her son's hair. He was right. For the Malfoys, it may never be over.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: last chapter! Thank you all so much for your feedback/alerts/favorites. I'm already six chapters deep into the sequel to this I'll be posting soon, called _The Coward and The Mudblood_, so put me on alert or just keep an eye out if you want to read. It's going to be a much longer story than this. Anywho, hope everyone enjoys :)**

A thick, depressing air hung over the castle the next day. Hermione slept for less than one hour after she and the rest of the students had left the hospital wing and been shuffled to their dormitories. She lay awake most of the night and simply thought until she was sure her brain was about to burst. She thought over her myriad of questions that were nowhere close to being answered. She thought about Harry, poor Harry, who lost Sirius the year prior, and last night had lost Dumbledore. All of Hogwarts lost Dumbledore, of course, but Harry was by far the student closest to the headmaster, and he had to suffer with the memories of watching it happen forever, just as with Cedric and Sirius. It was too much for one person, and Hermione shed many tears for her best friend that night.

She also shed tears for another boy, though she told herself he didn't deserve them. Draco had brought the Death Eaters to Hogwarts, he had caused Dumbledore's death, and Bill's injuries. Without him, last night would have been quiet, uneventful, and Hermione wouldn't be feeling more frightened than she had ever before, knowing that their greatest protector was gone. Dumbledore was the only wizard alive who Voldemort feared, and could not defeat - what would happen now?

And yet, the same boy who had allowed those monsters in, and made Dumbledore's assassination possible, had saved Hermione's life. He risked quite a bit, she knew, by hexing the werewolf Greyback just as he was about to pounce on her. He would have much to answer for if his fellow Death Eaters had seen him saving Hermione's life, and she knew he would be punished anyway for not killing Dumbledore himself as he had been ordered to. She had no idea if he was still alive, and the thought of him having been tortured, killed or both was tormenting her more than she could have ever dreamed it could prior to two months earlier.

When she did finally drift asleep, the sun was beginning to rise and a few in the castle were waking. Her brief fitful sleep was a replay of last night's events, and it was interrupted by the sound of the Patil twins, Hermione's dorm-mates, being manhandled out of the room by their nearly hysterical mother. Hermione was wide awake instantly, tearing out of bed after the twins were gone and rushing to the common room to see if Harry had awoken yet.

Harry was descending from the stairs from his dorm to the common room at the same moment Hermione was. The rest of the room was deserted, but Harry turned on his heel as soon as he saw Hermione.

"Harry - please, can we talk?"

His efforts to flee stalled. He didn't want to talk to anyone, not even her, but he seemed too exhausted to argue. Hermione suspected he had slept even less than she had.

Reluctantly, Harry walked down the stairs and strode to one of the large windows in the common room, and Hermione followed. He stared blankly out the window, and Hermione did the same, neither speaking for a moment.

"Did you sleep?" Hermione finally asked.

Harry shook his head. "You?"

"Only for a few minutes."

Hermione found herself afraid to say anything about the two people weighing heaviest on her mind. She didn't want to make Harry talk about Dumbledore and thus have him relive seeing him killed, and she feared Harry's reaction if she spoke Draco's name. But she felt that he needed to know how Draco had saved her life last night, as she wouldn't have dreamed of telling him last night in the hospital wing in front of everyone.

"He... he saved my life last night," she said quietly, "Draco. Greyback was about to attack me, and he hexed him away from me. If he hadn't, I'd either be in the same condition as Bill or dead."

Harry continued to stare ahead, his face unreadable. A long moment passed before he replied. "He was never going to be able to kill him. He couldn't do it."

Hermione knew that _him_ was Dumbledore. The name must have caused too much pain for Harry to speak, she thought. "I can't imagine watching it, Harry. I'm so sorry. You've seen too much for one person, one lifetime."

Harry shrugged. "I reckon I'm going to see a lot more before all of this is over."

Hermione wrapped her arm around one of his, and lay her head on his shoulder. She couldn't think of anything to say that could possibly help, so she opted to just hope her touch would help comfort him that at least, despite it all, he wasn't alone.

* * *

Malfoy Manor was crawling with Death Eaters. Draco awoke to loud, unfamiliar voices, having slept only due to a bottle of sleeping draught he had hung onto from Madam Pomfrey. For a split second upon waking, he had hoped that it all had been one of his nightmares, but since he was in his room at home and not in the Slytherin dungeons, he realized with a wave of nausea that it had all really happened.

His first impulse was to hide in his room all day or maybe Apparate to a remote cave where he would never be found again, but then he thought of his mother being surrounded by all of that filth out there in the rest of the house. If last night was any indication, the Malfoy name now carried absolutely no respect in the Dark Lord's eyes, and by extension, his followers. He couldn't leave his mother to fend for herself. He wasn't his father.

It was with a great deal of determination he emerged from his room, his hand clutching his wand that was stuffed in a pocket, and found his way to the large, cold dining room. There were black robes everywhere, all of them conversing loudly, pouring food into their mouths. A lot of them he recognized, some he didn't. He turned his eyes to the enormous table in the center of the room and saw his mother sitting at the head, her face controlled and neutral. Her eyes found his and she nodded to her right, at the empty chair to her left. Bellatrix sat at his mother's right, and when her heavy eyes found his, it looked as if she was torn between a gut reaction to revile him and the very air he breathed, and the affection, however unstable, she felt for her nephew.

As he made his way to the empty chair, the crowd seemed to take notice of him, and he tried to block out their jeering voices.

"Ah, look at wee little Draco - more like his father than we thought, eh?"

"Malfoys, they're all the same! Cowards!"

"Would have let the old man go if not for Snape! At least one of has the stomach to do what has to be done!"

"He's no Slytherin! What a disgrace!"

Draco's fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were going numb. He sat next to his mother and stared at her.

"Ignore them," Narcissa whispered.

"Why are they here? If Father heard them speaking like this in his own house -"

"We have no choice, Draco. This is the Dark Lord's base now. We just have to get used to it."

Draco glared at all of the people violating his home, laughing at him and mocking him, and he wanted nothing more than to hex them all into next Sunday. Then he was out of his chair and was being slammed against the wall, in a chokehold, and being growled at by a large male Death Eater he'd never seen before in his life.

"I say what the boy needs is a good toughening up," the man said savagely, grinning all the while. "I can think of a few ways to thicken his skin..."

Draco couldn't breathe, and he heard the shrieks of both his mother and aunt, and then the man was on the floor, stunned, and Draco could breathe again. He collapsed on the floor next to the man, coughing and gasping for breath.

Bellatrix was standing over the man with her wand out. "What the boy needs is none of your concern, you filthy rat," she snarled before extending a hand to Draco. He took it after the briefest of pauses and got to his feet. "I will help you, Draco. I'll teach you how to be ruthless. I have much planned for you."

His aunt's lips stretched into a smile that showed off all of her yellow teeth, and Draco suppressed a shudder. Occlumency lessons with her had been nothing short of a nightmare - what in the world did he have to endure at her hand now?

Then the room went deadly quiet, and Draco and Bellatrix turned to see what had caused the sudden silence. Draco, expecting to see the Dark Lord, was relieved to see it was Snape who had appeared.

Snape looked around at the scene before him, looked from Draco's ruffled figure to the unconscious man on the floor, then to all of the silent Death Eaters who seemed to be speechless in his presence. Apparently, being Dumbledore's assassin brought with it an unnerving level of new respect.

"Narcissa," came the deep, controlled voice, "I came to speak to your son."

"Of course, Severus," Narcissa replied.

Draco, rather happy to leave the crowded dining room, followed Snape out of the room and down the corridor. They walked in silence to the enormous library that the Manor boasted of, and once inside, Snape closed the door and cast a silencing charm.

Draco stood confused after the older man wheeled around and stared at him."What's going on-"

"I saw you curse the werewolf, Draco," Snape interrupted. His voice was calm but fierce. "You cursed him to protect Miss Granger. Would you mind telling me why you risked your own life to do such a thing? Surely you must know protecting Muggle-borns is one of the fastest ways to get killed by the Dark Lord whom you now serve."

Draco's eyes went wide for a moment before he could gather himself. "What are you talking about? Why would I want to protect her, a mudblood? I was trying to hex her!"

"Don't lie to me," Snape said slowly. "Why would you want to hex a girl who was seconds away from being mauled?"

"Because... 'cause I hate her, I've always hated her," Draco feebly retorted. He then felt the familiar sensation of the barriers of his mind being breeched, and the unwelcome intrusion of Snape's Legilimency. He hastily tried to close his mind, to block the man's attempts, but he was too shaken by too many things, not the least of which was what - and who - he was being questioned about, and to his horror, he felt all of his memories involving Hermione rush to the forefront of his mind.

"No! Stop, _stop_!" Draco shrieked, grabbing his head and turning away, but it was too late. Snape had seen nearly everything.

"You - you had no right!" Draco exclaimed angrily, turning back to his professor , who was wearing a look of surprise but not shock.

"Listen to me very carefully," said Snape calmly. "You cannot allow your Occlumency to slip, not even for a moment. If the Dark Lord had seen what I just saw, the consequences would have been severe. Do you understand me, Draco? And you are lucky it was only I who saw you save the girl last night."

"You don't think I know that?" Draco snapped. "I'm not the idiot everyone seems to think I am!"

"I've never said you were," Snape replied. "However, secrets such as these require the utmost protection and after what happened last night, you must take extra care to make sure the Dark Lord remains ignorant of them."

Draco said nothing. He noticed, however, that Snape seemed to be speaking from experience.

"You should also know," Snape added, "that the Dark Lord never anticipated you being successful in your efforts to bring Death Eaters inside Hogwarts. You actually surpassed his expectations. That is why you weren't punished more severely."

Draco scoffed. "That doesn't change the fact that there's now a bunch of Death Eaters walking around my house laughing at me and trying to beat me up."

"My advice is to keep your head down and your mouth shut, and not give anyone reason to harm you. And, most importantly, keep your mind empty around anyone who has the ability to invade it."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "And why aren't you running to the Dark Lord right now to tell him what you saw? If you were really his servant, wouldn't you have already told him?"

Snape surveyed Draco, his expression unimpressed. "I cannot impress upon you enough the importance of Occlumency at this point. If you require further practice in that area, I would suggest you allow me to assist you rather than your aunt. She, I suspect, would not hesitate in sharing your secrets with the Dark Lord, should she stumble upon them."

And with a swish of black robes, Snape was gone.

* * *

After forcing herself to eat a very small lunch in the Great Hall with the rest of the shell-shocked school, Hermione made up her mind at last. She had to find out if Draco was okay. Fear was beginning to consume her mind, and the sooner she could get rid of it and put her mind at ease, the sooner she could get over the boy entirely, she reasoned.

So she marched to the Owlery, and picked out the most ordinary looking owl that she could find. She hastily scribbled a note and tied it to the tiny left leg of the owl, and patted its head before sending it off to Malfoy Manor.

Draco was pacing his bedroom angrily. The whole day had been a repeat of breakfast. Voldemort's entire band of followers, it seemed, now thought they had free rein to come and show up at their house, eat all of their food, abuse their house-elves, and both physically and verbally assault himself and Narcissa. The pattern was forming - some obnoxious Death Eater would be spouting off insults, then decide to take it a step further and teach Draco a lesson in "how it's done", and he would be attacked until Bellatrix would step in. Most of them seemed to be getting the picture, though, and lost interest in abusing him once they realized Bellatrix would in turn abuse them. But she kept saying things like "Leave him to me!" and "None of you can teach him the way I can!" which made Draco's insides curl in anxiety. Whatever she was planning on doing with him, he had a feeling it would involve her own personal brand of punishment masked as some sort of sick "lesson".

He was so deeply lost in his angry thoughts that the sound of tapping and thudding on his bedroom window nearly caused him to suffer cardiac arrest. Surprised to see an owl fluttering outside the window, he walked to the window and opened it, and the owl flew inside.

He untied the tiny piece of folded parchment from the owl's leg and tore it open.

_Please let me know if you're okay. I have to know. Once I do, I'll leave you alone, for good._

There was no signature, and there was none needed.

Draco rummaged in the drawer of his desk that sat near the window and found a few stale old treats for the owl, as well as a quill and parchment. The owl nipped unenthusiastically at the treats as Draco went to write his reply.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to write any of it. So instead, he scribbled down a pathetic two lines.

_I'm fine. Keep yourself safe._

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning to soft tapping on the window near her bed. She sat up and looked around, relived that the rest of her dorm-mates were still fast asleep. It was very early morning, and she ever so quietly crept out of bed and to the window, which she opened silently. The bird fluttered happily at Hermione's offering of treats that weren't as old as dirt, and Hermione read the two line letter.

She wasn't expecting a lengthy reply, so she wasn't disappointed. But, as much as she wanted to leave the conversation there and swear from that day forward to never think of Draco Malfoy ever again, there was one more thing she needed to say to him.

* * *

By that night, Draco was breathing a bit easier. The day had been better than the previous one, as nobody had attempted to beat him to a pulp. He was getting his Occlumency back under control and was practicing constantly throughout the day. The process of shutting down his mind allowed a glorious numb to replace the misery and anxiety he had been so full of previously, and the only thing that could shake up his control over his mind was far away, inside Hogwarts, hopefully trying to forget about him as intently as he was trying to forget about her.

He had just crawled into bed when he heard the soft _tap tap tap_ on his window. He dragged himself out of bed and to the window with a groan, and let the little owl inside once more.

With an annoying flip of his stomach, he unfolded the parchment.

_Thank you for saving my life. I know it was a great risk on your part. The offer still stands. Please be careful._

The owl was pecking at his hand, demanding food, but Draco was too busy rereading the note for the third time to notice.

It wouldn't be Granger if she didn't repeat her offer of getting him help from the Order for the umpteenth time, but, he thought, she had to realize that the idea was even more impractical now. Even if he did take up her offer and seek help from her bloody order, he couldn't imagine them taking him in after what he had done to facilitate Dumbledore's death. No, he had missed his chance when it came to that idea. He had made his bed, and how he had to lie in it.

He sent the owl away without a reply, and watched it soar away in the night. He shredded up the parchment and tossed it in a wastebin, ensuring nobody could find it and read it, and not needing it anyway now that the words were imprinted in his mind. He turned his eyes back to the open window, the owl now a speck in the moonlight, and he had a strange passing thought of how nice it would be to have a picture of Hermione in his possession.

His brows furrowed and he shook his head jerkily, as if trying to shake the odd thought out of his brain. It was bad enough that he had snogged the girl for weeks and gotten so incredibly bewitched by her that he had risked his life to save hers, even after she had called him a coward and rejected him. He had no business giving her another thought, not now.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, shutting down his mind and emptying it of nearly all its thoughts. When he reopened his eyes, he greeted the wonderful numbness like a dear friend, and headed back to bed.

* * *

Hermione sat near the largest window of the Gryffindor common room the following afternoon, dressed in her best robes and a pit of dread in her stomach. Dumbledore's funeral was a mere hour away, and she was already in tears just thinking about it.

Moments earlier, she had spotted the owl who had been delivering her letters to Malfoy Manor, but it had flown past her window towards the direction of the Owlery. She wasn't surprised that Draco hadn't sent her a reply. It was alright. She had said what she needed to say, and now she was free.

Hermione's sharp mind was quick to push thoughts of Draco away and to accept the reality of the situation. Whatever they had shared was most likely the result of Draco's overwhelming stress and need to cope, and Hermione's general naïveté when it came to boys. After all, the only boy she had ever kissed before him was Viktor Krum, and romance was one of the few subjects on which she didn't know a whole lot. The fireworks she had felt were probably just a reaction to the shock of actually kissing Draco Malfoy, and the forbidden nature of their romance. It all had a very reasonable, logical, explanation, she told herself.

But her heart told her something very different, and somewhere deep down, she knew that only something exceptionally powerful could have compelled her to keep Draco's secret for weeks, and for him to risk his life to save hers. But this would ruin her brain's hard work of having analyzed and quantified the whole affair, and to challenge it would be to risk taking Draco out of the box in the back of her mind that she had created and locked him inside.

A large hand enclosed over hers and shook her from her daze. She looked up to see Ron, looking down at her with a sad but comforting expression. She squeezed his hand and turned back to the window for a moment.

They remained like that for a few moments. Then Ron spoke. "We'd better get going."

Hermione nodded and stood, drawing in a deep breath. Then, still clutching one another's hands, she and Ron walked out of the common room and headed to the lake to say goodbye to Dumbledore. Maybe, Hermione thought as she caught a glimpse of a furtive glance that Ron was sneaking at her as they walked, she could also lay to rest those weeks she spent sneaking about the castle with Draco, and all of those moments where nothing else had existed in the world except herself and the boy. Maybe the answer to her problems was walking right beside her, and maybe that was where her future lay.

Hermione gave Ron's hand another small squeeze. Only time would tell, but no matter what, she resolved, she was going to be just fine. She would break the spell that Draco had placed her under, and he would be nothing more than a memory.


End file.
